


if you've got love to get done

by ripringle



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Gen, It's not an angsty story but Aaron's an angsty guy so??, M/M, Post-Break Up, Rbert appears once and is mentioned in the first half solely for plot purposes, Sharing a Bed, lots of food mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 64,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ripringle/pseuds/ripringle
Summary: He’s tired of thinking, of defending himself, of analysing everything, of having to worry about every little thing he does and what it’ll make people believe; he’s tired.Tired enough that hedoesstop thinking, and just as Chas is gearing up for another mini, well-meaning tirade, he blurts out:“I am.” Her open mouth hangs, confusion quieting her when little else can. “Seeing someone.”
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 18





	if you've got love to get done

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a couple of Christmases ago, so it can either be an AU of that Christmas or last Christmas – the choice is yours!
> 
> I wrote this for therapeutic purposes and tbh, I sat on a good chunk of it for half a year with a basic concept and couple of scenes in mind, then one day I started writing again and the words just kept coming and coming, and now I have no idea if it’s what I wanted it to be or if it has the feeling I wanted it to – it just is.  
> And since I finally got round to tidying it up a bit, I’ve decide to post it.
> 
> I don’t know if there’s anyone else on the planet who wants to read a long-ass Aaron/OC fic other than me, but I hope you enjoy it if you give it a try.
> 
> For anyone who read my other fic: same OC, different meet-cute.
> 
> Title from Hozier’s No Plan

“Well, well; if it isn’t the hero of the hour?”

Aaron sighs, hangs his head for a blissful second before ducking out from under the hood and turning to see Cain and his gran walking up to the garage, arms linked and matching shit-eating grins.

“Don’t start. I’m doing you a favour, remember?” he warns, pointing at him with a spanner.

“Oh c’mon, love,” Faith says as she slips her hand from Cain’s arm and trots over to him with too much excitement. “Not every day one of our lot gets in the papers for a _good deed_.”

“I didn’t-” the crisp swish of paper interrupts him, Cain flicking out his rolled up paper. Aaron rolls his eyes skyward.

“ _Local mechanic, Aaron Dingle,_ ” Cain starts. “ _Saved Christmas for one young family this year, as he helped stranded mother of two, Katlyn Holland, get back on the road in time to visit the grandparents – and all for free!”_

“Alright, Cain.”

“‘ _The boys think he’s a hero-’”_

“Cain.”

“ _‘I think he’s one of Santa’s elves,’ youngest son-”_

“Cain!”

“Alright, alright,” Faith laughs, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just a bit of fun. It’s a nice article!”

“It’s stupid,” Aaron grumbles, twisting the spanner pointlessly in his hands as he moves back to the car. “Bloody reporter could’ve helped instead of pulling over to ask stupid questions.”

Faith hums from somewhere beside him amidst the flapping of snatched paper. “He got a good pic, though. Better if you’d smiled.” Aaron grunts as she pokes his side.

“Better if he’d charged.”

“I told you like I told them,” he sighs, looking over his shoulder. “It was a quick job and I was on my way back from a callout. There wasn’t anything _to_ pay.”

Cain gives him a look like he doesn’t believe a word. “We got a plug from it at least. So long as we don’t get any numpties coming round expecting a freebee.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough chit-chat about it for now,” Faith says, slapping the paper against Cain’s chest for him to take back. “But see you in the pub for your tea?” She leans towards Aaron. “I’ll buy the hero a drink.”

“Gran, no-“

“You can buy me one then,” she laughs, winking as she totters back down to the road.

“As if that isn’t how it would’ve turned out anyway,” Cain mumbles.

“Look, Cain,” Aaron beings, standing up straight again and frowning lightly at his uncle. “I don’t mind doing the odd shift while the scrapyard’s quiet, but it’s always hell after New Year. Ellis doesn’t like to pull his weight even when I’m there; I can’t keep coming down here. You’re gonna have to find cover for Debs soon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves him off, heading further into the garage. “I’ll find someone. Hopefully someone who doesn’t give out handouts.” He smiles like he doesn’t mean it, but Aaron’s sick of it being talked about already.

~~~

He does head to the pub, sucking it up and braving whatever teasing Faith’s had all afternoon to come up with because he doesn’t trust that she won’t come track him down if he doesn’t show, and he could do with a real pint after the day he’s had.

He hasn’t been in as often as usual recently, and when he walks in to find Chas behind the bar, holding that damned article proudly up in the air, he wishes he hadn’t bothered today as well.

“Aaron,” she calls cheerfully, and he sighs making his way over, nodding to Jimmy who sits at the end of the bar. “We were just talking about you.”

“Please don’t,” he grunts, staring at the paper in her hands like he could set fire to it with willpower alone. “I’ve had enough from Cain today.”

She ignores him, as usual, grinning as she holds the article taut, straightening it out. “I think I’ll get it framed.”

“Mum, c’mon!” He snaps.

“What? My baby’s in the papers; I’m allowed to be proud!”

“Not like it’s his first time,” Jimmy mumbles over his pint. “Guess you wouldn’t want to put those up, though.”

Aaron shoots him a nasty glare, aware from her sudden stillness and silence that Chas is doing the same.

Jimmy’s hands spring up, a wide, dumb grin stretching across his face and wrinkling his eyes. “It is a very nice article,” he simpers, trying to appease them. “Nice thing for you to do, that.”

Aaron doesn’t bother responding, turning back to his mum. “Gran here?”

“Not yet,” she says with a shrug and not without a little sarcasm. “She can’t stay away too long, so I expect she’ll be in soon.”

Aaron nods and notices a family come up to the bar, menus in hand. “I’ll have a pint, when you’re ready,” he says, tilting his head to them and then moving to the other end of the bar where it’s quieter and Jimmy can’t attempt to make awkward small talk.

He scrolls through his phone as he waits, nearly jumping clear out of his skin when someone suddenly speaks beside him.

“Didn’t expect to see you in the paper this morning.” Aaron snaps his head to the side, and tires not the let his shock or anger show as Robert leans against the bar next to him. “It was a nice surprise.” Aaron shrugs and doesn’t give anything else as he looks back to his phone. “A regular knight in shining armour,” It was always fairly difficult to distinguish whether Robert was being snide or flirting, and whatever his intention is now, it rubs Aaron the wrong way, breaking his silence.

“It was a quick job-”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” Aaron looks up at him to see hooded eyes and a wide grin. Aaron knows that smile must have done something for him in the past, but all it does now is put him on edge; it’s calculated, every millimetre, every eyelash, every quirk of lip and glimpse of tooth. Robert plans out his every expression and move before he does it, and enough time has passed – finally – for Aaron to spot it all a mile away. It’s been used on him too many times, in too many situations. And where a thrill might once have been, is the feeling akin to a cheese grater against the bone of his spine.

“You having a pint?” Robert asks, like bringing up their past is some kind of victory that allows him to. “I’ll get it for you; pay it forward and all that.”

“No.”

He can feel his mum staring at them as she serves at the other end of the bar, her look burning and itching across his skin, along the back of his neck like a violent rash.

“Aaron-”

“I said, no.”

He pushes himself away from the bar, calling, “Forget the drink, Mum,” and leaves.

~~~~~

The next few days pass as quietly as Aaron could hope them too; Cain had dropped the teasing by the next day, as easily bored as ever, and some kind of drama with Eric keeps Faith occupied and would’ve, incidentally, meant she’d have stood Aaron up if he’d stuck around at the pub.

Liv fades in and out of the house, busy with coursework and the fraught social life of a teenager, so Aaron spends most of his downtime - not unhappily - with a bottle of beer, watching the TV, and picking up the same flipping bauble that keeps falling off the tree.

A distinct _plonk_ and roll sounds from the living room, and Aaron growls as finishes his list at the kitchen table.

“If that’s that silver one with the star-”

“I’ll get it,” Liv says calmly as she rises from her seat, a hint of humour in her voice.

“If it falls again, we’re sticking it somewhere else,” he grumbles, but knows Liv won’t be listening to him anyway. He looks his list over, frowning lightly at the paint names Liv had asked him to get and hopes it’ll make more sense in the shop. Cain had asked him to drive into Hotten today to pick up parts for the garage, and if he’s playing errand boy, he’s taking liberties. “You sure you don’t want anything else while I’m there?” He turns in his seat to look at her. “Nothing you want for the break either?”

“No, I’m fine.” She’s looking up at the tree, straightening out another decoration, and Aaron prays that one won’t start playing up too. “Y’know,” she starts quietly, and the fact she’s decided not to look at him gives him an uneasy feeling. “Vic and Rob haven’t even decorated yet.”

Aaron tenses, ice trickling through his veins. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction. Aaron thinks he can maybe see a hint of a question in that look too, something she hasn’t voiced since the breakup. He sniffs in a sharp breath, turning back around and pursing his lips to stop him from grinding his teeth.

“I’ve told Ellis I’ll pick up a small collection for the scrapyard whilst I’m that way,” he keeps his tone light, trying to keep the sudden and forceful annoyance out of his voice; it’s not Liv’s fault, he just wishes everyone would drop it already. “So I’ll be there a while, if you think of anything else.”

“Sure,” she mutters. “Thanks.”

~~~

It’s a bitterly cold day, the truck’s heater on full blast as Aaron works through his errand list. He collects the parts for Cain first, not willing to tempt fate and having to deal with one of Cain’s moods if something goes wrong. Then he heads to the stationers, where paint names are the least of his worries; it’s busy and noisy even on a weekday late-morning, and that is the clearest sign there is that Christmas is approaching, more so than the over-sized, overly colourful decorations.

He feels inordinately tired and fed-up when he gets back to the truck, and the rich, enticing smells of the street’s various cafés, restaurants, and coffee shops beckon him as he carefully puts Liv’s supplies on the cab seat. He doesn’t climb in after them, instead locking up and languidly walking further down the road to the nearest café.

He didn’t give a specific time for the collection, and he’s in no rush to get back to the garage.

He regrets his decision almost immediately; it’s a decent sized place, but there are a lot of people inside, on the tables and in the queue. Aaron winces at the shrill cackle from a group of women nearby, their loudness unmatched even by their fussing babies, but even that doesn’t deter him. For all the noise and the bustling, it’s still vastly warmer in here than in the truck and the strong smell of coffee is irresistible; he even finds himself briefly considering the heavily advertised festive specials as he waits in line.

“Oh, hi!” Aaron turns at the sudden call, maybe expecting to see another one to join the mother’s club, but certainly not expecting to come face to face with a woman beaming at him. “Fancy meeting you here, Aaron!”

“Uh,” he has no idea who she is. He tries to take her features in more – green eyes, pointed nose, swathes of messy dark hair spilling from the bun on her head – but nothing’s coming to mind. He’s about to ask who she is when there’s a commotion just over her shoulder that catches his eye.

There a man stands, seemingly shoved out of the doorway, with his mouth and eyes wide open in some concoction of shock and horror. Aaron wants to laugh at the cartoonish look, but he’s more freaked out that the guy is looking directly at _him_.

“Matt,” Aaron jumps, remembering the woman next to him as she calls out to the guy. “Lookie who I bumped into!” Aaron recoils as she taps his chest, indignant and looking from her to _Matt_ for answers only to catch the guy wincing too.

“Uh, yeah.” He stumbles forward, every slow step towards them somehow looking like he’s trying to run in the opposite direction. “Yeah. Look at that.”

Aaron’s not keen on any aspect of this, but the prolonged eye contact with the sweaty, pale man edging closer has the hairs rising on the back of his neck.

“You’ll join us for coffee, right?” The woman grabs his attention again, and for reasons beyond him, looks like she won’t take no for answer.

Tough shit for her.

“I don’t-”

“Why don’t you, er,” the bloke interrupts, putting his hands on the woman’s shoulders and finally looking at someone else. “Why don’t you grab us a table, and we’ll bring the drinks over, ok?”

Aaron frowns but the woman tries to argue before he does.

“But-”

“It’s a bit crowded, right?” There’s a concerning franticness to his wide eyes, but Aaron can’t tell if she’s noticed it too. “Don’t really wanna be doing this sitting in each other’s laps, do we?” He smiles, weirdly disarmingly given the other vibes coming off the guy, so Aaron’s not surprised when she says:

“Alright.” She pokes him in the chest. “But don’t try and prep him; it’s a big sister’s prerogative n’all!”

The guy laughs nervously as she drops out of the queue; she gives Aaron a sly grin before turning to find a table.

Then there were two.

Aaron stares at him.

_Matt_ stares back. Swallows.

“He-llo,” he whispers in some kind of weird, sing-song voice, but-

“Who the hell are you.”

“Ok,” his shoulders deflate, and he faces completely forward to stare at the glass cased pastries in front of them. “Ok. Ok.”

“Not ok,” Aaron growls, matching the other guy’s initial quietness. “Seriously, who the fuck are you? Why does she know my name?”

“It’s a funny story really,” he laughs with absolutely zero humour; more of hiccup. He looks at Aaron from over his shoulder, shaky smile flat-lining as he looks Aaron up and down and swallows. “Except it’s really, _really_ not.”

“ _Mate-”_

“Ok!” His hands rise and fall in quick succession with a panicked look behind him, presumably to see if the woman noticed; Aaron doesn’t trust him enough to check himself. “Ok, so,” he turns back and seems to balk at Aaron’s stare, but then edges closer to him. Aaron resists the urge to take a step back and hopes standing his ground and scowling harder at him will get his point across. “Y’know that story they printed of you in the _Courier_? The saving Christmas one?”

Thrown, Aaron blinks.

It’s enough, apparently.

“Well, my gramps may or may not have been reading it, and I may or may not have said you were my boyfriend.”

Aaron is – for perhaps the first time in his life, which, ironically, is really saying something – speechless. There is nothing going through his head as he tries to wrap it around what the guy just said, and his face is presumably just as blank.

Whatever he’s doing, it’s enough to make _Matt_ face the counter again, only glancing at him from the corner of his eye and quickly flinching away again.

Aaron doesn’t think he could stop staring at him if the place suddenly burst into flames.

However uncomfortable he’s making him – there is, belatedly, a touch of redness creeping into the guy’s face, and he’s tapping the counter edge as well now – it’s not enough to stop him from nudging Aaron’s elbow when the line huffs at them for not moving.

Aaron follows the prompt instinctively and the brief touch snaps his brain back into the realms of working again.

He keeps staring, though.

“You...” Aaron’s not sure he’d want to repeat it even if he could. “ _Why?_ ”

The bloke winces, glancing ahead to where people are being served. “Does it matter?”

A small, usually calm part of Aaron supposes it doesn’t; the big, glaring outcome is main thing here. But the rest of him is thinking loudly and repetitively, _who **does** that?_

“Yeah,” he snipes. “It kind of does.”

The guy sighs, running a hand through his dark hair and shooting Aaron little looks like he wishes he was anywhere but here. Aaron can relate.

“Well,” he starts quietly, but not shakily, seeming to resign himself to his own mess. “I’ve been single for a while, and my family’s a bit,” he falters, scrunching his nose before raising his hands and tensing them into a strangling, claw like gesture that Aaron understands viscerally, “with it being Christmas and the big three-oh coming up next year - as they _love_ to keep reminding me - they’ve sort of doubled their efforts. My sister and I went round for lunch the other day and they just kept going on and on, and you were there on the page my gramps was reading, and I thought,” he flings he hand to the side. “Fuck it.”

_Matt_ nods towards the cashier and Aaron steps forward, trying to process it all but able at least to finally stop staring.

“That doesn’t make it any less weird.”

“Oh, I know,” the bloke laughs. “Trust me, I know. Can’t say it wasn’t working though.”He offers with an embarrassed smile and shrug. “Well, up until about five minutes ago, anyway.”

Aaron scoffs and notices the man ahead take his receipt, the cashier turning to face him.

“What can I get for you?”

“Er, Americano. Please. Take out.”

“Okay, that’ll be three-four-”

“I’ll get that,” the guy says, stepping up to catch her attention before looking back at Aaron and giving him a weak smile at his scowl, his shoulder twitching again. “Least I could do, right?”

Aaron watches him for a moment, until he realises the cashier is waiting for him to say something, so he gives her a stiff nod and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Could you add two lattes to that please?” He turns back, and Aaron already doesn’t like the shaky grin he’s trying to give him. “Also,” he says like they were mid-conversation. “It would be super cool if you could just come over and say ‘ _hi_ ’.”

Aaron scoffs and rolls his eyes as _Matt_ pays, patiently waits until she’s finished handing over the receipt with a distracted order to wait by the pick-up counter, and he thanks her.

“So you’re paying a stranger to be your boyfriend.”

It startles a laugh out of him, “If I knew £3.40 was all it cost, I would have done it years ago,” but his smile falters when he sees Aaron's not laughing with him. “The coffee’s for the confusion,” he offers as they stop by the other waiting customers. “This is just a really big favour I’m asking for.” Aaron’s eyes follow him as he leans cockily against the counter. “Rumour has it you’re the big hearted kind of guy who does that sort of thing.” It’s a teasing smile, flirtatious even, if Aaron’s not mistaken.

He’s a good looking guy, there’s no escaping that even with the startling and very weird first impressions shrouding him; Aaron knows it and the guy himself clearly does too. This... _charm offensive_ , or whatever it’s called, has never really been Aaron’s bag. He’s used to more bite in the teasing, to flirting being an almost secretive thing conveyed mostly in long smouldering looks from a distance. But the guy’s handsome enough that, without even really thinking about it, Aaron says;

“What would I even say?”

He hums shortly, biting his lip and looking up and to the side like the answer lies in the mottled ceiling corner. “ _Hi, sorry I can’t stay, got work, but it was nice to meet you_ – that kind of thing.”

Aaron blinks.

“...How many fake boyfriends have you had?”

“None,” he laughs, green eyes hooking on Aaron's again. “But I’ve been caught short at a one night stands’ once or twice.”

Aaron grunts uncommitted, and turns away in time to catch a barista’s eye as he brings over three cups.

“So...?” _Matt_ asks as he takes the other two cups. “Would you?”

Aaron looks at him again as they step out of the way, flicking his eyes over the seating area and feeling a shiver run down his spine as the sister quickly looks back down at her phone. He sighs and turns back to _Matt._

“You’re pathetic,” he didn’t mean it to come out that strongly, but the guy replies without a moment’s hesitation.

“Yes, I am. I’m also a little desperate, but if you’re not comfortable-”

“The second this falls apart,” Aaron cuts in, starting to walk towards the tables. “You’re on your own. I’m not covering for you anymore than this.”

“Thank you!” He whispers loudly, skipping a little to walk in line with Aaron. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

Whether or not he has anything to say about Aaron’s curtness is lost as they quickly approach the table and his palpably eager sister.

Aaron refuses to feel nervous about this.

“So, here’s your coffee,” Matt immediately intercepts, handing her a cup before she’s even opened her mouth. “And here’s Aaron,” he gestures. “Aaron, this is my sister Chloe.”

“Hi,” she smiles, reaching out a hand that Aaron has to juggle his coffee to take. “Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“Yeah, you too.” She’s still smiling, even as she tries to subtly take him in, but it starts to fall as she notices he’s not moving.

“You’re not sitting?”

“No, actually, I-”

She turns viscously to frown at Matt, “You prepped him!”

“I didn’t,” he scowls back, stepping temporarily between Aaron and Chloe’s line of sight to put his cup on the table needlessly. “And stop saying that like you’re going to operate on him, you creep. He’s just busy.”

“Work.” Aaron offers abruptly, and abruptly wishes he hadn’t when her focus is back on him. “So, er, wish I could stay, but I shouldn’t really have stopped for coffee, so...”

She leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as a smile not dissimilar to her brother’s slides across her face. “Got more damsels in distress to save?”

Aaron hates that article, hates it to the ends of the earth and back, but can’t help the way his eyes flicker to Matt.

“Yeah, something like that.”

It makes Matt smile, a soft little quirk to his lips, which suddenly makes something in Aaron’s stomach flip, and he snatches on to Chloe’s slightly put-out voice like a lifeline.

“Can’t be helped, I suppose. Another time though, yeah?” She looks up at him with something scarily sincere, and he can’t help the gentle tone he replies with.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Right,” Matt coughs, hands fidgeting again. “Well,” he turns to Aaron, eyes sweeping over him quickly before meeting his firmly, which does nothing to hide his creeping embarrassment. “I’ll text you. Later.”

“Sure,” Aaron shrugs, tries to smile like he’s happy, like he means it, and takes a step back before Chloe speaks up.

“Not even a kiss goodbye? You _are_ out of practice, Matt.”

“Can you not, for like, 5 seconds?” He half-growls, half-whines at her, his shoulders sagging in an almost aggressive manner at Chloe’s knowing and unremorseful look, and Aaron laughs. It’s so very sibling-ly, and what’s still a marvel to him is that he’s _familiar_ with it.

Still, with Matt looking back to him with surprise, he takes it as his opportunity to leave.

“See you later,” he offers quietly, looking solely at Matt and gently tapping his arm, hoping that’ll be a bit more convincing for his sister.

Matt turns to him fully as he steps away, and with his sister behind him, he mouths a _thank you_ , smile still a little self-conscious, but his eyes soft around the edges and Aaron only gives him a brief nod before turning away and shuffling through the tables and chairs and the boisterous mother’s club to leave.

He takes a quick sip and a deep breath once he’s outside, pulling the collar of his jacket closer to his neck, before heading down the pavement. He’s not sure what makes him look back through the window of the coffee shop as he goes, but when he does, he catches Matt watching him. The guy startles at being caught, but it doesn’t seem to alert his chatting sister sat beside him. Aaron frowns, but all Matt does is smile a little guiltily, shrug his shoulders, and give a tiny little wave from his hand half hidden by the table.

Aaron rolls his eyes and faces forward again, burying his chin into his jacket, and blaming the little well of warmth in his stomach on the coffee.

~~~~~

Aaron tries to forget the chance meeting ever happened, but it’s easier said than done. That kind of thing just doesn’t happen in real life – Aaron’s not sure it even happens _out_ side of real life – and whilst Aaron should be used to life throwing him curved balls by now, he’s not used to them _not_ hitting him smack bang right in the face, leaving him broken-nosed and bloody-lipped.

The thoughts creep up on him; he replayed snippets of the conversation as he sat waiting in his pick-up truck for the dealer to get the paperwork, remembered there being two large freckles by Matt’s mouth and eye as he pushed pasta around his plate while Liv watched TV, thought about how he didn’t really see green eyes that often anymore as he lay in bed, wondered if people could as easily tell that he and Liv were related when they weren’t grumbling or picking fights whilst he did the washing up.

When he walks back into the garage a couple of days later, Dan has stuck the article up on the wall with electrical tape and Aaron makes him do all the callouts and the wiring on Mr. Hanson’s old banger that he refused to scrap; Aaron might be powerless against his gran or mum, but Dan can do one.

Still, as he straightens up and looks at the article whilst wiping off his ratchet, seeing his own face scowling back at him and looking as reluctant as he’s ever been, he wonders what it was that prompted someone like Matt to create his lie around him.

And that’s where his mum finally finds him.

“Alright, love?”

He turns and offers her a _hey_ as she strides up the slope, bundled up even though it’s a little milder today. He hasn’t exactly been avoiding her, not to the point where she can call him out on it, but he’s also not gone to see her or been to the pub, and when you live in a village as small as Emmerdale, you can only go so long without seeing someone before it becomes suspicious.

He just hadn’t liked the look she’d given him the other day, and he’s sure he can feel a conversation he doesn’t want coming.

He wants to be left alone.

“How’s it going?” She asks as she comes up to him. “Cain not giving you too much, is he?”

“Nah, it’s alright,” he says before ducking back under the hood. “I’ve already warned him though that he’ll have to find someone else by New Year.”

“Hmm,” she pauses. “So that’s not why you’ve not been in the pub?”

“Just didn’t fancy it.”

“I saw you in there with Robert the other day.”

And here it is. The conversation, the meddling, the looks.

“Mum,” he sighs, resting his hands on the sides of the engine and tempted to stay hidden under there.

“I just want you to know you can talk to me about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he says, coming out to meet her head on. “We’re over.”

“Are you?” And it doesn’t matter how softly she asks, it still feels like a stab to the gut. “Because you’ve said that before.”

He knows that. He’s hated himself for it time and again, and now that he’s finally broken loose, he doesn’t need her doubting him. He doesn’t need it.

“We’re done.” He says firmly, though there’s a gravel in his throat because it hurts that she’s asking him, and he just hopes she doesn’t misconstrue it. “For good. He was just trying his luck like he always does.”

“Ok,” she says it like she’s conceding, but Aaron knows she’s got more to say. “Listen, I’m never going to be Robert’s biggest fan. And I’m not... _championing_ his cause, because you deserve better and to be treated better.”

He wishes with all his might that she’d stop talking there, but it’s futile.

“But more than anything, you deserve to be happy, Aaron. And you haven’t been, since you broke up. So if being with him makes you happy, even if it means fighting and _making_ him follow the rules, then that’s where you should be.”

He keeps looking at her, at the way she’s staring up at him with hope and love and a mother’s determination, and tries not to feel angry.

But he is.

And he knows he has no right to be because he’s been screaming at his mum to back off since he was sixteen; he can’t blame her for not knowing he meant _be stronger, be stable, hold me tighter_ , when he barely let’s himself understand that now.

All those months, if not years, he fought with her over Robert, telling her she didn’t understand, that he knew better, that it didn’t matter what she said; he wishes he could take them all back, that she had fought him harder.

Because he hadn’t been happy, not really. He’d even known it at the time. He’d just found someone who’d stay, and he fought to find contentment in that, _was_ content with that because what did he know about happiness beyond a home and someone in it to go back to?

But he’d also found someone who’d said things that made Aaron feel worthless, did things that made him angry and upset and relapse, and who’d kept Aaron believing above all else – regardless of whether he was Aaron’s _‘one and only’_ – he was the one and only person who would put up with him and stay.

He has no right to be angry at her over things he took so long to come to terms with himself, but he is because she’s his mum and deep inside he’s still that same kid, and for once, just once, he’d like her to just _know_ like mum’s are supposed to.

“I am happier without him, Mum,” he says instead, because she either won’t believe _I wasn’t happy_ or end up feeling guilty about not spotting it, and that’s the last thing he wants. Or needs. “It just takes time to get used to, doesn’t it.”

“But it’s been months, love,” she continues as gently as she’s capable of. Aaron had sort of thought she’d drop it after he said that. “You’ve not starting seeing anyone-”

He frowns, annoyed and a little distastefully.

“So, what, I need to be with a bloke to be happy?”

“No.” She mocks snidely, but it quickly fades. “Well, maybe, yes.” Aaron’s not really surprised, she alluded to the same thing with Alex, and the longest she’s been without a bloke was when she had PTSD. “But you need _something_. Moping around at home, to work, to _here,_ ” she throws her arm out, like helping Cain is a giant black spot against him. “You’ve even stopped coming to the pub as often; that’s not being happy, Aaron.”

The thought tickles the back of his mind, like it has been for days.

It’s not just his mum, standing here in front of him, almost telling him to get back together with his ex; he thinks about Liv, about Robert coming up to him, how Vic would’ve been the one to give him the paper, and all the little looks and whispers the village can’t help churning up.

He’s tired of thinking, of defending himself, of analysing everything, of having to worry about every little thing he does and what it’ll make people believe; he’s tired.

Tired enough that he _does_ stop thinking, and just as Chas is gearing up for another mini, well-meaning tirade, he blurts out:

“I am.” Her open mouth hangs, confusion quieting her when little else can. “Seeing someone.”

The world might as well have stopped turning for all the silence between them in that moment, and for all the awareness Aaron has of what he’s done.

It trickles in like sand through a timer before immediately falling on him like a sack of bricks, and it’s a herculean effort to keep that from showing on his face

He swallows drily.

“You’re seeing someone?” She asks, eyebrows raised to her hairline. Helpless, Aaron barely manages a stiff nod before she squeals and starts hitting his arm. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“None of your business, is it,” he mumbles, stroking his arm.

She tuts, predictably ignoring him, a sly smile quickly taking over. “How long have you been dating? What’s his name?”

“M-Matt,” he chokes out. She’s so excited he can barely stand it or keep up, but he tries because surely, the sooner he answers her questions, the sooner all of this is over. It feels like hours pass as he attempts to pluck answers out of his malfunctioning brain, but her eagerness doesn’t falter or whither into suspicion. “And not long.”

“How long?”

“Mum,” he sighs and warns at the same time.

“Ok, soo..?” she edges closer, and she’s never looked more like Faith than when she’s smiling like that. “When are we meeting him?”

The horror strikes him right in the chest.

“What?”

“When’s he coming over? What’s he doing for Christmas?”

How she jumped from one sentence to the other, Aaron will never know; he’s left grasping at her quick-fired words and trying to put them together to make sense. _‘Christmas’_ is what stands out.

“Well,” he starts, exasperation seeing him through like it does in most stressful situations with his mother. “He’s got family too, so...”

“ _So_?” She frowns at him. “He can’t make time for you on Christmas?”

“No,” he tries to answer quickly, wishing she’d stop making these wild leaps he can barely follow. “I haven’t asked, ok? Like I said, we’ve not been seeing each other long an-”

“So it’s not serious?”

Aaron can’t keep up with how quickly it’s all falling apart. If he says _no_ , will she brush it all aside and start going on about Robert again? But if he says _yes_ , she’ll expect to meet him, keep hounding Aaron until that happens.

Which it can’t, obviously.

Being caught in the firing line like this, Aaron only has a single thought spare in his scrambling brain, and that goes to briefly wondering how Matt managed to pull this off.

“It’s still early, innit?” He mutters, hedging.

“Well,” she continues, completely unperturbed. “You should bring him round before then anyway.” She pauses, a wicked grin appearing. “Then I can ask him for you, if you’re nervous.”

“Mum,” he groans.

“He won’t be able to say no to the mother-in-law on the first meeting...”

He’s half-tempted to tell her he’ll be spending Christmas with Matt’s family, see how she reacts to someone else making the same demands and expectations she is. It’s not a bad deal for Aaron either; with the way things are at the moment, he wouldn’t mind locking himself away in his room, eating takeaway, and Die Hard being the closest he gets to Christmas. But it wouldn’t be fair on Liv, and-

_Liv._

“Mum,” he interrupts her hastily. “I haven’t told Liv yet, so can you please just keep this to yourself?”

She stops and blinks at him like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Why haven’t you told her?”

He breathes out, realises he doesn’t even have to look for an answer. “She’s been through enough. I don’t wanna mess her around.”

“Love,” she places her hand on his arm, gently this time. “Neither of you are kids anymore. She’ll understand.”

“Yeah, well-”

“She wants you to be happy just as much as the rest of us,” she smiles, knocking his arm softly. “Probably more.”

He knows that’s true, but he can’t help wondering if she sometimes looks at him like he used to look at his mum; always fighting with Robert, ‘family’ members on a pedestal one second and out in the cold the next, letting her get so involved with the whole Alex thing.

Sometimes, in his more selfish moments, he wishes she’d hated Robert as much as he’d hated Carl; it would have made it a lot easier for Aaron to leave sooner, and make it easier now.

Then again, he guesses she did back in the beginning.

Another failure to add to the list, then.

“I know,” he says quietly, trying to brush all the other stuff aside. “But she should hear it from me first.” Because he knows now that he’s given his mum this much, she won’t let it go and she won’t be able to keep it quiet for long, no matter how good his reasons for keeping it from Liv could be.

“Of course,” she smiles understandingly, at first. “But make sure it’s soon, yeah? Coz I’m going to meet him, and neither of you are getting out of that.”

She pulls away, smug and proud and at least half-knowing.

“Make sure you ask him what his favourite tea is,” she says, half turned to him as she starts walking away, head held much higher than when she’d arrived. “I’ll make sure to cook it for him. Well,” she grins with a wink and a dip of her shoulder. “I’ll have Marlon cook it.”

“This is keeping it quiet, is it?” He calls after her, not in the least bit surprised

She mimes zipping and locking her lips before giving an excited shrug and hop, and Aaron’s sure she’s doing her best not to squeal or cackle with laughter. Once she’s safely round the corner, Aaron lets the tension slip out of him and rubs his eyes.

He gives himself a moment to breathe and push her overzealousness to the back of his mind.

In a couple of days he’ll tell her it’s too busy right now but they’ll have a big family dinner in the New Year, then sometime after Christmas he’ll tell her Matt dumped him via text on Christmas Day and she’ll be so busy cursing his name for the next six months that she might just let Aaron get on with his life.

It’s not the best plan, and Aaron knows all too well it’s not foolproof, but it’s the best he’s got to get out of this as unscathed as possible.

And if he allows himself just a moment of optimism and seeing the bigger picture, well...

It might work in getting everyone off his back.

~~~~~

It’s precisely two days later - before Aaron’s plucked up the courage to talk to Liv and long before he could tackle phase two with his mother - when he finds out that Chas hadn’t been able to keep quiet, at all.

His first clue should’ve been Paddy asking him to go shopping with him. Well, it should probably have been the not-so-stolen looks and the extra stumbling in his talking.

Embarrassingly, it’s not until they’re actually in town weaving their way between shoppers and fairground-like stalls that it’s spelled out for him.

“It’s quite good this, in’t it?” Paddy says, squeezing Leo’s hand but glancing up at Aaron too.

“Yeah, not bad.” Aaron hates shopping and isn’t fond of crowds, but he does like Christmas - contrary to what he’s sure most of the villages think - so he doesn’t mind being here, taking in all the decorations, the smell of mulled wine and actual roasting chestnuts, and helping himself to a free mince pie here and there. It helps that it’s just turning to dusk so the bulk of the late night shoppers haven’t arrived yet, and that Paddy’s the one who has to do any shopping, Aaron coming along to help look after Leo whilst he does it.

He crouches down to him, signs what he can remember to better catch his attention, “What do you think, Leo?”

He doesn’t turn to look at Aaron, but nods enthusiastically and Aaron smiles as he stands again, running his hand over Leo’s hair. It doesn’t feel so long ago to Aaron when he was babysitting or hanging out with him, but in reality Leo’s grown in a way Aaron completely missed, and a reservation has slipped back between them that hasn’t been there since he came back from France.

“I’ve not been a very good godfather, have I?” He mumbles as he runs his fingers through the fine strands of Leo’s hair, mostly to himself, but expects Paddy will chime in anyway.

“I haven’t been a very good dad,” he replies just as quietly. He looks at Aaron with a sad smile, swinging his hand with Leo’s a little as they start walking again. “Haven’t spent much time with him at all recently, with everything that’s happened.” He looks down to him again and starts rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand.

Aaron can’t argue, not with Paddy’s statement nor his reasoning.

“Not been a great dad to you either,” he adds, quickly catching Aaron’s attention and meeting his eyes in that skittish way he does sometimes. “If I haven’t even noticed you’re dating someone.”

Aaron immediately groans and rolls his eyes.

“She told you then.”

“Of course she told me,” Paddy laughs. “She basically dragged me out of surgery to tell me. I’m just wondering why _you_ didn’t tell me.” Before Aaron can work out a reply, he mumbles, “You used to tell me everything before Chas.”

“It’s not a competition,” he grumbles.

Paddy gasps in mock surprise, “It’s not?” quickly dissolving back into chuckling at Aaron’s deeply unamused look. Aaron hopes through sheer determined ignoring that that’ll be the end of it, a simple understanding of _now you know I know_ , but Paddy keeps staring at him and waiting.

“It’s early days,” he answers simply and hopes that’ll be enough. He’s got more chance of that with Paddy than with Chas.

“What’s he like?” Though the odds are still low, apparently.

“Did she give you a list of things to find out?” He asks snidely.

“Yes,” Paddy laughs again. “But that wasn’t on it.” When Aaron still doesn’t reply, he prompts again, “Well? Is he nice?”

Stupidly, Aaron tries to remember if he was, for all those grand five minutes they knew each other.

“Yeah,” he says curtly, embarrassed with himself. “He’s fine.”

“‘ _Fine_ ’? I hope you’re more complimentary to his face,” Paddy tuts. “Though I don’t suppose you ever needed help with that kind of stuff,” he mutters contemplatively.

Aaron scoffs, “Like I’d take advice from you if I did.” Paddy chuckles good naturedly, bending to speak with Leo as something catches his attention. “So, did she tell everyone?” Aaron asks when he’s upright again.

“Just me,” he offers soothingly and Aaron supposes that’s fair enough. “So, is _‘fine’_ all I’m getting?”

“Paddy, seriously-”

“Ok, ok, you don’t want to talk about it.” There’s a brief pause that Aaron doesn’t fall for for a second. “But he treats you well, right?”

They’re both looking ahead, watching kids laugh and squeal next to the fire truck demonstration, and very purposefully not at each other.

“Yeah,” he says more softly. “He’s fine.”

“ _‘Fine’_ ,” Paddy repeats despairingly, but when Aaron chances a look at him, he’s smiling wider, easier than before.

A couple of minutes later, Paddy’s dipping into a shop and leaving Aaron and Leo to watch people try to win prizes at a very shoddy looking but brightly lit stall. It’s still light enough that the flashing lights aren’t a problem, but they both lose interest quickly at the cheap, barely recognisable toys. Catching a flash of bright colour from the corner of his eye, Aaron points out a group of – apparently late for something – carol singers with lit up wings and headbands running, thankfully, in the opposite direction.

Once they’re out of sight, Leo in turn points at the fire engine and signs that he wants to see it. “Yeah? That’s cool,” Aaron smiles, remembering that Leo was always into tractors; maybe he liked trucks too now. “We’ll just wait for Daddy Paddy and then head over.”

As if summoned, Paddy appears shortly after, new paper bag in his left hand and a general look of relief about him.

Aaron doesn’t ask.

Instead he tells him about the fire engine and tries not to feel disappointed when Leo lets go of his hand as Paddy takes his other.

There’s a small group of noisy kids around the truck, listening impatiently to the fire-fighter standing beside the cab. Aaron can’t really hear what he’s saying, can’t be bothered to listen either, but he’s dressed in the full uniform as are a couple of the others, oversized beige jacket barely moving as he gestures with his speech.

With a similarly dressed woman letting the kids try on the helmets and a bloke in casual uniform helping a little boy out of the cab, Aaron expects the children are only pretending to listen as they wait for their turn.

Some are better at that than others, and Leo stops a little short of the miniature, hyperactive crowd.

“Do you like it, Leo?” Paddy asks as he crouches down, putting his bag down beside him so he can sign a bit.

Aaron can see that Leo’s signing back but not what, and vaguely listens to Paddy’s side of the conversation as they talk about what parts of the truck might be where. He doesn’t join in or crowd Leo, instead keeping his eye on two of the rowdier boys who’ve started chasing each other without a care for what they may or may not collide into, or for their mothers shouting at them.

“Y’know,” he says to catch Paddy’s attention. “If he wants to get closer, we could try going round the other side; I think it’ll be quieter.”

Paddy asks Leo, and after a hesitant nod, stands back up with a groan and couple of cracks, almost forgetting his bag in the process; Aaron would make fun of him for getting old if Paddy hadn’t been doing that since they met.

At first they go for a wide arch to avoid the little bustle, but with the other kids more interested in the front, Leo confidently paces ahead to the relatively deserted back of the truck. They catch the beady eye of the woman before they’re even three meters away, but she smiles at them with a nod before turning her attention back to a girl pulling on the bottom of her jacket.

They don’t stop too close with all the equipment on display, not wanting to put any of the crew on edge, but near enough to see all the compartments and to stay out of the others’ way a little. Paddy does his best to explain what things are, makes a lot of guesses with Leo at others; beyond the obvious hoses and small pile of traffic cones, Aaron hasn’t got a clue.

He wanders a little to the side to look at the very end of the truck, sees it’s shut up, and wanders back.

He has a vague memory of a fire engine coming to his primary school, of the same excitement his class had. They were all meant to have a chance to go into the cab and have a little tour of the levers and buttons, but they’d been so boisterous and crowded that Aaron didn’t get a turn. He hadn’t minded missing out, but then he hadn’t been that interested.

“Hey Leo,” he says crouching next to him. “You wanna sit in the truck?”

Leo looks at him, back at the truck, and then up at the front where a kid is scrambling up the steps much to the chagrin of the bloke trying to help. Leo nods and then looks at Paddy.

“Might be waiting a while for that,” he mutters glancing over the group.

“Maybe they’re letting kids in the other side too?” Aaron says, pushing himself up and walking half-backwards. “I’ll check-”

He bashes into someone heavily, a dull thud of pain registering in his shoulder before anything else, followed by the sound of clattering plastic, a broken off apology, and the instinct to turn to the other person.

He gasps, wide green eyes and a slack mouth staring back at him, and Aaron has no control of the surprised, “Matt,” that stumbles out.

“Matt?” Paddy asks from behind him, and Aaron quickly turns to him, still reeling too much from one shock to really face another. Paddy looks quickly from him to over his shoulder and back, looking as equally surprised with a touch of excitement - that Aaron’s not keen on - seeping in. “ _Matt_ Matt?”

Whatever Aaron’s face is showing, it isn’t the icy dread or flaming embarrassment he feels because all Paddy sees is affirmation.

“You’re dating a _fireman_ and you didn’t tell your mum?” Paddy all but shouts, scandal and surprise and sheer flipping joy written all over him, and Aaron would really like the whole world to collapse on top of him before his brain finally catches up enough to be fully aware of this mortifying moment.

The world’s got about ten seconds.

Paddy’s standing stock still in front of him, looking about as shocked as Aaron feels except in the exact opposite way, the same way he looked when he met that stupid director of those stupid fucking zombie films and didn’t know what to do with himself.

Behind him, there is exactly no sound and no movement where-

“Sorry,” Paddy laughs squeakily, flapping a hand about his head and half tripping over Leo as he steps forward, who watches the scene with a complete lack of interest that Aaron envies. “Sorry,” he says again to Leo, placing a quick hand on his head, and faces them again. “I, sorry, what I should’ve said was,” Aaron realises that Paddy’s not looking at him but behind him and can do nothing but stare as he stutters and keeps walking forward, past Aaron, stretching out a hand. “Hi, you’re Matt, right?”

Aaron thinks he can hear his own neck creek as he slowly looks to Matt, who flicks his eyes to him and hesitates only a moment, before reaching out and taking Paddy’s hand, shaky smile fitting in place as he answers quietly, “The one and only.”

Paddy’s face lights up brighter than the stalls dotted down the street.

“I’m Paddy, obviously. Well,” he giggles, turning to face Aaron and back again, arms flailing a little around him. “Maybe not obviously, I don’t know how much Aaron’s said, but I figure if he’s said anything, then I’m fairly recognisable.” He sweeps his arms down himself, almost curtsying, laughing like a mad man.

Aaron has a brief, detached moment where he wonders what Paddy would be like if it was _his_ fake-boyfriend they’d bumped into, and if he could really be any worse than this.

“Well,” Matt says with a slight cough. “He’s not said much, but I wouldn’t like to assume anyway.” There’s the slightest tick to the corner of his mouth that makes Aaron want to _run_.

“Typical Aaron, eh?” Paddy says, still with that laughing lilt as he turns his attention to trying to pinch Aaron’s side. “Always so secretive. Finding out he was dating you was like pulling teeth-”

“Paddy, _for god’s sake_ ,” Aaron snaps, forcefully pushing his hand away.

“Did Aaron ask you about tea yet?” Paddy switches easily, catching both of them off guard.

Aaron looks to Matt who quickly turns his wide eyed gaze to Paddy like he forgot he was there. “Um...”

“Coz now that _I’ve_ met you,” Paddy continues. “You _have_ to meet Chas. She’ll never let me live otherwise.” He laughs, though there is a touch of panic in it.

“Yeah, Aaron mentioned,” Matt swallows, rubbing a hand through the back of his dark hair and casting another quick look to Aaron. “I’d like to, but with work...” he gestures jerkily to the truck beside them.

“Oh, yeah,” Paddy says with an almost weird understanding. “I guess this a busy time for you.”

Thankfully that’s when Leo steps in, pulling at Paddy’s coat and reminding him about their own conversation about the truck.

“Oh, sorry buddy,” Paddy says cupping Leo’s head. “This is Leo,” he quickly gestures, smiling as Matt says a quiet hello to him, before frowning a little, casting quick looks to Matt like he’ll disappear if he stops fawning over him for half a second, “I guess we should line up for a go...”

“Oh!” Matt startles, making Aaron take a step back as he looks around himself wildly with a bitten off curse, crouching to pick something black up and staying there as he pointlessly dusts it off. “Er, y’know,” he starts looking from Leo to Paddy and back, holding the thing out to him steadily. “If you take this walkie to the old man there,” he points to the general direction of the dolled up speaker. “Then I bet he’ll let you skip the line.”

“Really?” Paddy asks, but Matt keeps his eyes and smile on Leo until he takes the walkie-talkie from him, holding it carefully in both hands.

“Sure,” he says as he stands back up, shrugging.

“Cool. That’s,” Paddy looks to Leo, to Aaron, to Matt. “That’s great. So we’ll just,” he points over his shoulder, Leo already trying to tug him away. He looks back to Aaron. “Are you...?”

“No,” Aaron croaks, clears his throat before trying again. “I’ll wait here.”

“Cool,” Paddy says again, giving a quick smile to Matt as Leo finally wins out and gets him to start moving away.

It’s deathly silent as they both watch them walk away, Paddy stumbling every other step as he tries to look back at them covertly. It doesn’t help with Aaron’s sparking nerves.

“So...” Matt draws out in a low voice. “I feel like I’ve missed something.”

Aaron glances at him, sees a smug smile, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “It’s nothing.”

“I dunno,” he hums as they watch Paddy try to edge his way to where the guy’s still talking, Leo taking more of a lead as he walks up to him with little care now his has a goal in mind. “Kinda seems like it might be something.”

The grey haired man looks to Leo and Paddy with surprise as they approach him, confusion sweeping briefly over his face as he takes Leo’s offering and – Aaron expects – listens to Paddy’s babbling, before he follows Paddy’s restless hand to look sternly in their direction.

If looks could kill, Aaron thinks he and Matt would be doing about as well as the various chestnuts being handed out in paper cones, but when he turns to Matt, he’s grinning widely and waving at the guy high in the air.

“So?” Matt prompts again with a raised eyebrow, lowering his arm and tugging the navy fleece of his uniform back down as he turns his attention solely on Aaron.

“You started it,” Aaron all but growls, his defences rising in goose bumps up his back.

“I did,” he nods, agreeing easily. “I’m just wondering why you’ve told _your_ family as well.”

“Does it matter?” Aaron grumbles.

Matt laughs lightly, “I guess not. Not like I have a right to know when I’m the one who used you first. Still,” his eyes track down Aaron’s body as he shifts his feet, putting his hands in his pockets too as he meets Aaron’s eyes again. “I’d like to know.”

Aaron looks away, catching sight of Paddy and Leo waiting by the cab, and reminds _himself_ this time that Matt’s the one who started this. Whatever Aaron’s done, whatever he says now, it’s not as embarrassing as Matt. Without thought, the memory of Matt fidgeting by the pastry counter, the look of horror on his face when Aaron first saw him, and the grimaces as he tried to explain, all cross over Aaron’s mind and he takes a deep breath.

“My mum,” he pauses, frowning. “Well, my family, but mostly my mum,” he meets Matt’s eye and starts fiddling with the lint his pocket. “She was getting on my back about my ex, and I just wanted her to stop. It was a couple days after the thing with you,” he nods towards him. “And it just slipped out.”

“Fair enough,” he says softly, and there’s something in his eyes that Aaron can’t quite look away from. “They want you to get back together with him? Your ex?”

“I guess,” Aaron shrugs with a frown, cuts a quick look to Paddy. “Never gonna happen though.” He says firmly. “But saying that isn’t enough apparently.”

Matt hums, an empathetic smile slowly taking shape. “Family, eh? Can only go so long without interfering.” Aaron huffs a laugh, tries to glance at the ground as he kicks it but Matt draws him back in, a smug tone to his voice. “Worked though, didn’t it? Telling them you were dating someone.”

“Yeah,” Aaron’s eyes dart between Matt’s, smirks. “Until about five minutes ago.”

Matt laughs, genuine enough to make him take a step toward Aaron and for Aaron to smile a little at him too.

“I dunno,” Matt starts jokingly. “I’d say it was working pretty well just now too.” Aaron concedes with a shrug and semi-embarrassed smile. “So if it’s working for you, and it’s working for me, do you wanna roll with it?”

Aaron frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he shrugs. “I could have that tea with your family, you come meet mine, give ourselves a break for the holidays, and then we can ‘split up’ in the New Year?” He scratches his jaw, looking upwards as he mumbles to himself, “That’s when I was planning on us breaking up anyway.”

Aaron stares at him, sees that when he looks back at him he’s nothing but genuine.

“This is mad,” Aaron mutters. “It’s weird.”

“I know,” Matt sighs, both hands coming out to move around as he talks, one floating in the direction Paddy went. “But is it really any weirder than dreading seeing your own family coz all they talk about is how you should be with someone, even if-”

“You’re not ready,” Aaron mumbles, watches as Matt nods, his shoulders sagging.

“Or you’re happy as you are,” he finishes softly, a moment passing as they look at each other, understanding flowing between them like a gentle tide. “What we’ve got, it’s working.” He huffs and smiles a little derisively as he adds, “it was working better before we _met_ ,” making Aaron scoff too, “But it’s still working. I just thought it might make things go a bit,” his arm stretches between them, “Smoother.”

Aaron tips his head in acknowledgment and looks at the ground, biting his lip. Chas comes to the forefront of his mind without prompt, her almost threatening excitement about meeting Aaron’s supposed boyfriend never being too far from his conscious these last couple of days. He’d worried about getting around and away with that, and now that Paddy’s met him she’ll be a nothing less than a dog with a bone.

He glances over to Paddy, sees him laughing with whoever’s sitting in the truck with Leo, his face rosy with either the cold or the earlier excitement. He thinks about Paddy’s question earlier, about his little smile, the sudden weightlessness of his round shoulders now – and Aaron knows he could be imagining that part, but Aaron also knows that even with the added anxiety of having to curb his mum’s enthusiasm and tell Liv and her careful comments about seeing someone new, a weight’s been lifted off him too and given him room to breathe, something he didn’t know he’d needed for so long until he took a deep breath as his mum tottered off back to the pub.

He looks back at Matt, sees he’s patiently watching the people around them over Aaron’s shoulder as he mulls it over.

“Would it really work?” Aaron almost whispers, brows furrowing slightly.

Matt shrugs with a careful smile. “You never know, I guess. But I think so. Might take a little extra work since all I know about you is your name, you’re a mechanic, and you’re ticklish.”

“Wha-” Aaron frowns. “I’m not ticklish,” he rebukes, hopes if he scowls hard enough Matt won’t notice his jaw twitch or whatever other tells Aaron has that Adam always saw through like glass.

“Oh,” Matt’s head tilts, eyebrow raised in surprise. “I thought Paddy was-”

“Being an idiot?” Aaron scoffs, kicking the ground and cursing Paddy out mentally. “He just likes to wind me up,” he mumbles, frowning as the rest of what Matt said sinks in. “I’m not a mechanic either.”

Matt stares at him.

“Ok, this might be a bad idea.”

Aaron snorts, watches from the corner of his eye as a smile slowly stretches over Matt’s lips.

“I used to be a mechanic,” he offers even though Matt didn’t ask. “I’m helping out at the garage over Christmas.”

Matt nods, seems to think this over as his eyes drop down to Aaron’s chest. “So,” he drawls, smile quirking to the side as he looks at Aaron from under his lashes. “An easy mistake to make.”

Aaron feels himself smirking back, looks to the side at the kids still making a raucous. “Still not gonna be easy. How long we meant to been dating anyway?”

He turns back to see Matt put his hands back in his pockets as he looks skyward. “‘Bout a month before the article?” He shrugs as he looks back to Aaron. “I think I was a bit vague, so there’s wiggle room.” Aaron nods; that works well with what he said too. “Though,” Matt catches his attention, teasing smile quirking his lips again. “We have been spending a lot of my free time together recently.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep. We’ve been on about as many dates as times my sister has asked me to go shopping with her. Funnily enough.”

Aaron presses his lips together, nods slowly as he looks at Matt with amusement. “Funny how that worked out.”

“Isn’t it?”

Aaron chuckles and looks Matt over, who’s clearly pleased with himself; he’s got an easy way about him, a natural flirt and charmer, but Aaron had suspected that the first time. It wouldn’t be hard, to pretend to get along with him, to like him, and perhaps more importantly, Aaron reckons it wouldn’t be difficult for him to win Chas over – or at least distract her – either.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

Matt raise his eyebrow, straightens up a bit. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Aaron nods, scuffs his feet a little before meeting his eyes again with a shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen anyway?”

Matt laughs, “True, but saying it out loud’s still asking for trouble. Here,” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to Aaron. “Put your number in and I’ll text you mine.”

Aaron takes it, keys his number in.

“Paddy and Leo are coming back over,” Matt warns as Aaron saves it. “Is Paddy your dad?”

“Yeah. Well, step-dad. Sort of.” Aaron hands his phone back and looks over to see Paddy practically skipping back over to them, beaming so wide Aaron can already hear the excited stutter about to happen again. He looks back at Matt with a sigh and an evaluating scowl, “Did you really have to be a fireman, though?”

Matt smirks at him, “Did you have to be not-a-mechanic?”

“Hey!” Paddy interrupts, tripping slightly as he comes to a stop beside them, poor Leo barely escaping being dragged behind him. He looks happy though, smiling up at them and then at something he’s carrying in his hand; Aaron feels the way it makes him smile too. “Thanks for that,” Paddy continues, looking solely at Matt again like he’s a big, shiny display. “Leo loved it.”

“No problem,” Matt offers easily, unknowingly cutting Paddy off before he started gabbling. “Not many perks of the job to hand out, but this is something I can help out with.” He bends a little to talk to Leo around Paddy’s leg. “Glad you had fun, Leo.”

Leo looks at him briefly, still shy around people he doesn’t know, but nods enthusiastically.

“Davies!” They all look up to where the grey haired man stands, a still centre amongst the whirling kids, hands on his hips and a reprimanding look on his face as he offers nothing more.

“Well,” Matt sighs. “That’s my cue to get back to work.”

“Oh, sorry-” Paddy hastily starts.

“No, no. It’s really not a problem. Chief’s never happy unless he’s grumpy.”

“Sounds familiar,” Paddy teases with an elbow to Aaron’s side. He pushes him away immediately with a scowl, speaking up quickly before Matt can say whatever the smug look on his face is hinting at.

“I’ll see you later, then.” He shoves his hands back in his pockets, feeling unbearably awkward again.

“Yeah,” Matt says with ease, placing a hand on Aaron’s shoulder that he can barely feel through all his layers. “I’ll call you later.” Aaron’s pretty sure it’s the same empty promise he’d said in front of Matt’s sister, but he nods along anyway, trying not to look at Paddy. He watches Matt turn to him instead, his other hand coming out to shake Paddy’s again as the one on Aaron’s shoulder slides away. “Nice meeting you, Paddy.”

“It was a pleasure, Matt,” Paddy replies excitedly, a giggle seeping through as he shakes his hand with far too much force. “Like, an actual pleasure. Chas is going to love you-”

“Paddy!” Aaron hisses, pure embarrassment washing over him where panic would have 10 minutes ago.

“I know you’re busy,” Paddy continues with a slight frown, barely glancing at Aaron. “But do you think you might be able to come over some time for tea? Or something. It would just be nice to have you round...”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Matt jumps in with a smile. “We just gotta work a date out coz Aaron already said he’d come meet my family,” he looks at Aaron, a glint in his eye and smirk on his lips. “Technically I asked first.”

~~~~~

Chas loses her mind.

“A _fireman_! You’re dating a _fireman_ , and you didn’t tell me!”

Aaron sits at the backroom table, arms crossed and legs spread out wide before him, half-watching Chas pace the room.

He hasn’t said a word since he’d been summoned.

Paddy had been able to keep schtum about as long as Chas had.

He doesn’t get it. He _gets_ it in that he knew his mother would react like this – knows even better that his gran will be just the same or worse – but he doesn’t understand why it’s a big deal. Why she has to shout and walk around the room with her arms waving about in some concoction of anger and excitement.

“He’s handsome too,” Paddy pipes up from the sofa where he’s been diligently watching Chas’ movements. “Proper handsome. Not that I’m necessarily a good judge of that, but it’s hard to miss...”

Chas halts all movement and stares sharply at Paddy, hungry for all the information, all the minute details, and indignant that Paddy has them before she does.

Aaron expects he told her everything numerous times last night, but she still takes the bait and he still doesn’t seem tired of regaling the three seconds he spent with Matt.

Aaron doesn’t know if he’s more embarrassed for them or for himself.

He rolls his eyes as she sits beside Paddy, asking a far more subdued, “How handsome, exactly?” and takes his phone out as it buzzes.

> _Hey, how’s it going?_

Matt.

He’d sent a text shortly after Aaron had managed to drag Paddy away, a simple _The Boyfriend_ that had simultaneously made Aaron smile a bit and sent a swooping motion of dread through his gut, a known symptom of taking part in a bad idea, but they hadn’t contacted each other since.

He shifts in his seat, rubs his hand on his thigh as he sits up a bit and replies.

< _Fine._

Nothing happens for a while, then three little dots appear. Disappear. Appear briefly before disappearing again.

Aaron frowns.

“...he’s got really nice eyes. Green and...” Aaron inadvertently hears Paddy prattling, and forces himself to tune out again before he catches anything his mum has to say. He sighs, still waiting for Matt to say whatever it was he got in touch for; he swivels the phone between his finger and thumb, thinks that if they’re going to do this and do it convincingly, he’ll have to try a bit harder on the conversational front sooner or later.

He bites his lip, dares to glance in the sofa’s direction, and feels a light scowl form as he types.

_< Paddy and mum are currently trying to decide if you’re good looking or not_

The reply is instant.

_> And my doting boyfriend is defending my honour?_

Aaron snuffs.

_< Sorry. Wrong boyfriend._

_> My mistake. I’ll see if the others can spread the word instead_

_> Tho I’m fairly confident Paddy’ll be singing my praises enough for both of you_

Aaron almost rolls his eyes, and bites the soft flesh where his lip and cheek meet instead.

_< Subtlety’s not his strong suit_

_> I’ve seen worse_

“That him?” Chas startles him, his phone coming precariously close to falling to the threadbare carpet as it buzzes again. He looks up at her, frowns to see her smirking at him as she falls back into the sofa cushions, crossing her legs and tapping her painted nails on her knee.

“What?” A pointless delay tactic and everyone in the room knows it.

“Matt.” She enunciates, pointing at his phone. “Is that who you’re texting?” Aaron shifts, crossing his ankles, eyebrow twitching as he meets her eyes again. It is Matt of course, and there’s no reason to lie, it even helps the situation that they’re texting each other, except for some reason, it still feels like a trap.

He swallows. Takes the risk.

“Yeah.” Chas smiles at that, which makes Aaron even more suspicious.

“What’s he saying?”

“Chas,” Paddy warns softly as Aaron rolls his eyes and leans on the table beside him.

“What, a mother’s not allowed to ask?” She says mildly, then springs up from her seat catching both Paddy and Aaron off guard as she advances towards Aaron, big grin on her face and a little hop in her step. “Look at you,” she drawls in that teasing way. “Trying not to smile at your phone.”

Aaron instinctively curls away and over his phone as her pinching fingers come closer; there’s nothing particularly incriminating in their messages, but it feels like the first gay porn site he ever dared look at with Paddy thumping up the steps.

“Get off,” he grouches, ducking away from her hands and throwing an arm out to try and push her away.

“Chas,” Paddy tries again, but when Aaron looks to him he’s wearing a similarly blithe expression. “Leave him alone.”

“Can’t I at least see a picture?” She half whines, avoiding Aaron’s arm by standing behind his chair and leaning on his shoulders. He keeps his phone face down against his thigh. “You must have a few?”

“No.” Ice drops in his stomach, and he hopes she won’t keep pushing him on that.

“But-”

“Chas,” Paddy interrupts as Aaron snaps _“Mum!”_ at her.

“Why not?” Indignation is seeping back into her tone, and Aaron doesn’t feel even remotely guilty about the sweeping relief as she directs it mostly at Paddy. “You’ve already got to meet him!”

“Shouldn’t’ve sent Paddy to do your dirty work, then,” Aaron mumbles. She’s glaring at the side of his head, but he switches his phone back on instead, ignoring the message alerts and randomly opening an app that isn’t his texts or pictures.

“I didn’t send him to do anything,” she grumbles as she strides back to her seat, arms crossed over her chest again, and since Aaron can no longer feel the laser like pressure of her death glare, she’s probably shooting daggers at Paddy as she flops back down.

Paddy’s saying something quietly, but Aaron’s already back to ignoring them, opening up his messages again now that he’s got his personal space back.

_> Speaking of_

_> What’re you up to on Sunday?_

Aaron frowns, hesitating for a moment as an unpleasant sense of anticipation swells up.

_< Nothing?_

“If you’re gonna be texting him anyway,” Chas speaks up. “The least you could do is invite him over.”

“Aaron’s already asked,” Paddy chirps, smiling like that means something more than what Aaron can grasp from it. “Matt said they were trying to find a good day, what with his job and...”

Aaron sighs and goes back to his phone.

_> Fancy having a Sunday roast at my grandparents?_

He wonders briefly if he can say no; the plan seems all well and good until they actually have to follow through with it. He casts a quick look to the sofa, Paddy’s arms wind-milling and Chas sat in scrutiny, and figures whatever’s in store for him at lunch, it can’t be any worse than what he’ll be dragging Matt into.

_< Sure_

It takes a little longer for Matt to reply, but when he does, they come in quickly.

_> Cool._

_> Lunch is at 1. You wanna meet at mine an hour before or something? Get our story straight?_

_> You allergic to anything? Or have a deep hatred for something any half-decent boyfriend would know about?_

Aaron blinks at the messages.

_< No I’ll eat anything if I have to_

He’s pretty sure Matt’s grandparents aren’t going to be serving anything too adventurous at a Sunday lunch anyway.

_< That’s fine. Send me your address_

When it comes through a moment later with a distinct lack of anything else, Aaron fiddles with the casing of his phone and bites his lip. He looks up to see his mum watching him even though Paddy’s still rattling off beside her; she raises her eyebrow and he gives a quick frown back before turning to his phone again.

He reads Matt’s messages again.

_< You’re gonna have to do better than half decent to get my mum off our backs._

His reply comes in fast.

_> I’ll do my best!_

~~~

Despite the shock, Paddy’s excitement, and a hastily formed fake relationship, all yesterday really did was make Aaron have to talk to Liv.

He left the pub shortly, allowed to escape with a promise that Matt would visit soon, and left Chas to her dramatics and Paddy to his swooning; with his mum’s bulldog approach, he’d forgotten how invested Paddy also got in his love life.

The polite thing to do would be to warn Matt what to expect when they meet on the weekend – as much as anyone can predict of his family – but there’s a little, tickling itch in his chest that shelves that idea, and wonders if throwing him in the deep end wouldn’t be a good look on Matt’s generally confident face.

He’ll think about it.

Maybe weigh it up against how the lunch goes. Because on paper, Aaron thinks he’s getting the better deal out of this; what’s some homely grandparents, a nosy sister and presumably similarly behaved parents against the Dingle hoard, which will undoubtedly include his mum, Faith, possibly Cain, and Liv who may or may not consider him enemy number one, as well as whoever else feels entitled to show up? But Aaron’s learnt by now, you can’t count on anything. If Matt’s family are as pushy as Aaron’s, well, tit for tat and all that.

But before Aaron can start worrying about Matt’s family, he has to worrying about Liv, and after a stop to the shops, he stands over the simmering pot, stirring slowly as he waits for her to get home.

Aaron’s not an expert in the kitchen, but he can do a Bolognese, and the quickest way to Liv’s heart is generally through some form pasta or bread. He’s going for both, having bought the overpriced garlic bread she likes; it’s not the big guns, not the sirens of a surprise takeaway, but a side of garlic bread is the gentle bribe, the ‘Sandra wants you to stay with her for a while’ news breaker, the it’s-not-bad-but-you-might-not-like-it kind of bribe.

He breathes in deep, the rich, tomato-y smell making his smooch rumble. Comfort food.

The muffled jangle of keys and scratch of the lock snap Aaron out his daze, and he goes to drain the spaghetti, welcoming Liv home over his shoulder as he avoids the plumes of steam.

“Hey,” she sniffs the air, throwing her bag down by the couch and shrugging her jacket off. “Bolognese?”

“Yep.”

“Nice.”

“How was school?”

“Not bad.”

He’s long since learnt that asking any other questions will result in a ‘nothing’ or ‘I don’t know’, so he simply serves up as she takes a seat, being generous with both their portions.

“Gabby’s having a nightmare with her mum,” she starts as Aaron places the bowls on the table, side-eyeing him as he grabs a towel and goes back to the oven. “Diane’s put her in a bad mood, so now she’s taking it out on Gabby.”

“Yeah?” He turns with the bread in his hands and smiles at the way Liv beams up at him. He slides it on to plate and brings it over with him, having to remind her it’s hot when she reaches to tear a piece off immediately.

“Bernice was planning something for Christmas lunch or something-”

“Rather her than me.”

“But Diane invited Vic and Rob over, so now she’s complaining there’s too many people and that it’s ruined everything.”

Aaron swallows, the mince suddenly feeling like sand in his mouth, and looks at Liv carefully. She pushes a load of sauce onto her bread, barely blowing on it before she takes a big bite. She doesn’t seem preoccupied, like she was testing the waters, but Aaron still feels a little uneasy and doesn’t attack his own food with quite the same gusto.

“She wanted to hang out before going home,” Liv continues, mouth half-full. “She’s sick of all the jibing and guilt-tripping.” She twirls her fork in the spaghetti, looks up to Aaron with consternation. “I don’t get why Bernice is even bothered; from what Gabby’s said, her past attempts never went well anyway.”

“You know what Bernice is like,” he offers with a shrug. She nods with a snort, and he takes another bite. “You know you can invite Gabby over anytime you like. Just give me a warning if she’s gonna stay the night.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“You can even invite her for Christmas, if you both want.”

Liv’s fork stops halfway to her mouth, and she slowly lowers it again as she looks at him like the idea had never crossed her mind. He supposes it wouldn’t have, but one of the best Christmases Aaron ever had was with Adam and his family, painful and bittersweet as it had been at the time. He wants that for Liv, has always wanted that, for her to know that family is what you make of it, not just what you’re landed with.

He hopes that she’s understood a bit of that after he brought her to the village. Or rather, after she decided to live with him here.

“Really?” She asks quietly, something between surprised, hopeful, and dubious. Aaron shrugs.

“Sure. One more’s not gonna make a difference to our lot, and Marlon always cooks too much anyway.”

She watches him, and he tries not to watch back; he’s worried he’s maybe walked into something – maybe offered a wider invitation than he intended – with the way she’s so still and looking at him like he just told her the sky was green, so he stares down at his fork as he spins it round, only looks at her steadily when he’s chewing again.

“Don’t think Bernice would like that,” she says softly, going back to her own food.

“Well it’s Bernice’s fault, innit?”

“Thanks,” she says after a small while. “I’ll let her know.”

He shrugs it off again, hoping she’ll see it really isn’t a problem. He doesn’t mind Gabby, even after everything; she makes Liv happy and makes her feel comfortable in herself, and he’d give Liv a million friends like that if he could.

They talk a little about Aaron’s day, though there’s not much to say when he only spent a few hours at the garage with Dan and omits his mum’s drama this morning.

But that in itself brings the conversation around, and he clears his throat a little, staring studiously at his pasta.

“Actually Liv, there was something I wanted to let you know.”

She hums in acknowledgement, dunking another piece of bread into her bowl, completely unbothered.

It’s now or never, Aaron I guesses.

“I’ve been seeing someone.”

Her head snaps up to him like he’d shouted and not spoken as quietly as he could get away with. She’s still chewing, though markedly slower, so Aaron carries on with the little he’d tried to prepare.

“It’s early days, a few dates and that, but I thought you should know.”

She nods, silently, looking down into her bowl again. The lying, her quietness; none of it sits right with Aaron, and he shifts in his seat, plays with his food as his appetite turns to ash.

“So,” she mumbles, not quite looking at him. “It’s definitely over? With you and...”

“Yeah,” he replies quickly, has to cough to cover the roughness in his voice. His insides turn a dark, sticky, slowly sliding kind of liquid; it’s one thing to suspect what she’d been thinking, hoping for, and another to know she’d never believed him at all. “But Liv,” he tries, firm and calm because he doesn’t blame her at all. “Even if I hadn’t met someone, it would still be over. I know I haven’t made it easy for you, but I mean it. I’ll never-”

“Yeah,” she interrupts, eyes never quite landing on his. “I know you said before, but... Sorry.”

“It’s ok,” he replies automatically, even though it’s not. It smarts, but who’s he to feel jaded when he’s left a hundred times before? When he’ll never tell her the whole truth and what it is he’s finally managed to break away from?

The instinct to appease is strong – _I’m sorry; I understand you’re upset; It doesn’t mean you have to stop seeing him_ – but he manages to keep a hold of it, wrestle falsities and words that’ll come back around to hurt him down into his sinking stomach. It’s not easy, but this breath of silence - that for once isn’t mindlessly filled - is better for both of them.

“So,” she coughs, and a completely inexplicable warmth rises in him, simply because she spoke first. “What’s he like?”

It’s terrible, the swirling, sickly heat of guilt and love combined, but he’ll take it because it’s still better than a lot of what he’s felt over the last few months. And he loves her. He loves her so much. For no reason at all, and for the fact she’s brave, and considerate, and loves him too.

It puts him in a weird position of hating even more that he’s lying to her and wishing he had better lies to tell her.

“He’s alright,” he has to fight not to roll his eyes as he hears Paddy’s teasing in his mind, and clears his throat as he tries again. “He’s... nice. A fire-fighter.” He pokes at his spaghetti as he tries to find something more for her, thinks back to their hushed conversation in a café line, Matt’s open stance and carefree wave in the fading light yesterday, and the handful of texts he’d sent. “Likes to laugh, likes to flirt. Bit full of himself,” he settles with half-truths, Liv watching him as she listens. He grins slightly, reveals a little more, something he wasn’t even aware he’d been thinking, “But something tells me he’s a bit of dork. Haven’t put my finger on why yet.”

She huffs something of a surprised laugh, and even though she immediately looks down to her food, it makes him smile.

“How long have you been seeing him?” She asks, as she studiously piles up another forkful.

“Not long. A few weeks,” she cuts a quick look to him, and he knows the question she wants to ask but won’t; _why didn’t you tell me?_ He dodges round it, answering it indirectly by laying out the pre-emptive crash mats he’d been thinking about all day instead. “Look, Liv,” he starts gently, putting his fork down and making himself look at her, putting all his sincerity in the would-be-truths and glosses over the lies they’re wrapped in. “I don’t know if this thing with Matt is going to last or not. We’re just dating, and we’re having fun, and that’s all that matters to us. So... what I wanted to say, was,” he coughs, trying to remember the way he’d phrased it whilst he was chopping onions and hopes he’ll just get the point across properly, however it comes out. “If you want to meet him, if you don’t want to meet him – that’s up to you. Totally. It’s casual, so neither of us mind. We might break up, we might not-”

“I know how dating works, Aaron,” she cuts in with a sigh, almost defensively, and that was not what Aaron was hinting at; it didn’t even cross his mind she’d take it that way.

_Well,_ he thinks. _Maybe I don’t._

“Well, maybe I don’t,” he risks saying out loud, smiling a little deprecatingly. “I’ve... made a few mistakes, since you’ve started living with me. Everything with Robert, moving Alex in...” he shakes off the gnawing feeling he always gets when he’s reminded of how things went with Alex. “I just, whatever happens with Matt, I don’t want you to feel like you’re being dragged along with it.” _Again_.

She blinks at him, and he watches as tension he hadn’t even noticed leaves her shoulders, a softness crossing over her face, something he can’t put a name or reason to.

“I don’t feel like that, Aaron,” she says quietly, partly gentle, partly that typically-Liv gruff.

“Well, as long as you know,” he finishes lamely, quickly turning his attention back to his food, though he sees her nod and can feel her staring at him the way she’s done pretty much since she was baby.

“So,” she says after a small pause, mouth full. “Matt, huh?”

“Yep.”

“And you like him?”

He looks up at her, sees she’s smiling a little, and resist the urge to tease or argue the point of that question. “Yep.”

She nods. Rips another piece of bread off.

“And you’re thinking of bringing him round or something?”

He groans and grimaces at her, sort of playing it up for her, sort of really not, “Paddy and I bumped into him unexpectedly yesterday.”

“Awkward,” she says around a mouthful of bread and an attempt to not smile.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” he grumbles with false humour. She chuckles, which makes him smile anyway as he finally takes another bite. “So now Mum _has_ to meet him, of course.”

“Of course.”

He swallows, decides to take a leap and let her in on what he can. “Don’t know when yet. I’m seeing him on Sunday, though, so we’ll work it out then. If that’s ok?”

“Sure,” she shrugs. Aaron can’t see any unease or upset around her, but he keeps watching her carefully anyway as she grabs the bread again.

Aaron smiles. “Am I gonna get to eat any of that or...?”

Liv looks at him in surprise and then grins. “No.” She rips the bread in half, shoving one piece into her bowl and the other straight into her mouth.

He laughs, her full name on his lips and ready to be admonished, but she rips off the bite mark she’d left, and passes him the rest of bread with a giggle.

He jokingly snatches it away from her and takes large bite out of it, even though he hadn’t really wanted it, grinning at the way she made herself laugh.

~~~~~

Sunday comes around quicker than Aaron would really like it to.

He spends the couple of days in between chipping in at the garage, checking in on Ellis and trying to keep his mother at a distance. She’d moved on from her jealous dramatics into an enthusiasm she poorly contains, and whilst Aaron can’t deny it’s an improvement, it still doesn’t help with the fact that Aaron mostly just wants to be left alone to get on with his life.

There’s no word from Matt – there’s no need for it – so Aaron happily shoves the lunch to the back of his mind to be ignored, until Saturday night rolls up and he can’t get himself to concentrate on the film Liv put on for longer than 5 minutes at a time.

He sits it out because he’s not going to be around tomorrow, and so she doesn’t think anything’s up with him, but he can’t stop his leg or foot from jigging, and spins his phone round and round against his thigh.

It’s been a long time since Aaron’s had to ‘meet the parents’.

Hazel had really been the last (and first, of course). He’d met Ed’s mum and dad very briefly at a game or two on the rare occasions they came over to France, but they’d never done the sit down and get to know each other thing. Aaron had never wanted to, and he supposed for Ed’s parents there wasn’t much more you needed to know about the boy your son loved enough to whisk away to France in a matter of days, not when they’d already been living together for a couple months by the time they could make it over.

Hazel had always been, and always will be in Aaron’s mind, a blessing and a curse, and that first meeting was no different. Drowning in her anecdotes, Aaron’s nerves had soon dissolved and he hadn’t needed to worry about making conversation or making a good impression when she kept steamrolling on. Didn’t do much for his patience or aversion to loud voices back then, but that was the seesaw of Hazel. And strangely, it had made it easy to be himself around her.

But lord knows, people aren’t like Hazel.

Aaron’s so used to people knowing him, such is village life, that it’s been a while since he’s had to put himself out there, to have actual conversations with people he doesn’t know who aren’t work or lawyer related. Tomorrow he’ll have to sit at some old duffer’s table, introduce himself, let them ask questions, and, ideally, get them to like him.

It’s been such a long time, Aaron doesn’t even know if the fact that it’s fake is making him more or less anxious.

He can barely picture it; he can see a roast and doily laden table, but what they’ll be wearing, what they’ll be asking, what they’ll expect, how Aaron fits into the scene... that’s all black space, and he doesn’t know how to fill it. It feels like he should, like he should go in with some kind of plan or preparation, but then, he reminds himself, that’s the point of meeting with Matt early tomorrow. Probably.

He keeps fiddling with his phone, watches the Christmas lights reflected in its black screen instead of the chase scene on TV, and bites his lip.

He unlocks it and opens up his messages.

_< What should I wear tomorrow?_

Matt takes long enough to reply that Aaron’s attention switches on again, just in time to watch one of the characters die, but not long enough to catch their name or what their purpose in the film was.

_> Whatever you want?_

Aaron rolls his eyes; always a helpful answer.

He tosses the phone onto his lap, puts his arms behind his head, and tries to relax, stretched out along the sofa as he is. His body remains restless though, feet jumping and insides itchy, and he can’t stop thinking about whether his better black jeans are clean or not; he’s pretty sure they can pass for trousers in dimmer light.

His phone buzzes a little while later, snapping him back to the present.

_> I’ll be wearing jeans, t-shirt and a jumper, if that helps?_

Aaron presses his lips together, finds his leg’s stopped moving.

_< Yeah, thanks._

Three little dots appear, and then disappear. Aaron watches and waits for them to return.

_> I’ll drive us to and from mine, so if you wanted a drink with lunch tomorrow that’s cool. There’s a bus stop a street down from me._

_< That you’re way of telling me that I’ll need a drink?_

_> It’s always a possibility_

Aaron huffs, waiting as Matt writes something else.

_> They’ll be fine, I promise. No biting, and they’ve stopped jumping up at people. Gran might wee the carpet in excitement, but...._

Aaron chuckles, bends his knees up and sways them a little as he replies.

_< Can’t promise the same from my lot_

_< I’ll think about it – there’ll probably be a reduced service since it’s Sunday_

_> Ah, smart thinking. They’re gonna think I hit the jackpot with you._

~~~~~

In the end, Aaron decides to get the bus; he didn’t give up the option of a quick getaway lightly, but he figured, ultimately, alcohol might be more convenient to have on hand. He also didn’t fancy having to find a parking spot in town on the second to last weekend before Christmas, even on a Sunday.

Luckily the only bus he could take drops him off just ten minutes early, outside a kebab shop that Aaron’s happy to find will be open later – as far as backup escape plans go, it’s not bad.

It’s a miserable day, overcast with heavy yet barren clouds making the day dark and dreary even at this time. It doesn’t help with Aaron’s mood – he’d prefer it to rain over this still, pressured half-darkness – but he’s trying to fight it; he’s not that put out, really, but there’s a niggling petulance that he can’t shake. Maybe it’s nerves masking themselves as anger over picking out his clothes (he’d gone with a thin, dark blue jumper and his lesser black jeans eventually) or sitting three rows behind a violently sneezing woman on the bus, but whatever the truth, it doesn’t change the fact he’s more grumpy than is necessary or helpful as he trudges on towards Matt’s flat.

He lives on one of the quieter streets in the town centre, above a boarded up shop that has strips of blue paint peeling away. It’s not a bad street, a couple of shops still in business and obviously more residential, but it’s still Hotten.

There’s only one button on the intercom, so Aaron presses it and waits for Matt’s tinny voice to come through.

“ _Hello?_ ”

“It’s me.”

“ _Aaron?”_

Aaron frowns and tries not to snap, “Yeah.” Of course it’s him.

“ _Come on up.”_

The buzzer is loud and obnoxious, so Aaron’s quick to step through the door, slamming it shut behind him. He tries not to actively stomp up the stairs, but they’re so hollow and echoey it doesn’t make much of a difference.

“Hey,” Matt says as Aaron steps onto the landing, holding the door open and leaning against the frame. He seems completely at ease, smiling gently and standing barefoot in a light blue t-shirt, and for some reason, that leaches some of the tension out of Aaron’s shoulders.

“Sorry, I kinda overslept,” he offers as Aaron comes up to him, stepping back and giving Aaron room as he ushers him through. “So I’m still getting ready.”

“No problem,” he mumbles as Matt shuts the door.

He can’t help looking around, the warm glow a stark contrast to the greyness he was just walking through, beckoning him to take it all in. It’s a decent sized room, not huge but enough for the kitchenette at least to feel a little separate from the rest of the living room.

“Won’t be long,” Matt starts as he half-jogs between the small breakfast table and the back of the couch to another door, calling, “help yourself if you want a drink or anything,” over his shoulder.

Aaron shuffles towards the kitchen, but keeps looking around the rest of the room instead, strings of fairy lights and colourful tinsel draped around most of the available surfaces catching his attention first, shortly followed by the small artificial Christmas tree sitting in the window and laden with tacky ornaments.

There’s stuff everywhere. Not messily – though he expects someone like Lydia would have something to say about that – but there are trinkets and photos and little bits of paper sitting in front of the books and files on the shelves, tacked to the walls, weighing the magnets on his fridge down... everywhere.

It’s so homely, Aaron’s a little taken aback. He hadn’t given a single thought to what Matt’s flat would look like, but this certainly isn’t the bachelor pad that would’ve come to mind.

He glances at the door Matt disappeared into and notices the distinct glow coming from the open crack that tells him he’s got Christmas lights up in his bedroom too.

He moves stiltedly into the kitchenette, hands deep in his jacket pockets as he makes his way to the fridge. He tries not to read any of the notes, but he can’t help looking over the photos; a group of 20-somethings in various stages of sunburnt cheering at the camera with the telling vibrant shades of green, beige, and turquoise of the Mediterranean behind them; a fuzzy shot of a blonde woman swearing, _Dirty Thirty_ written across her cleavage, as a brunette kisses her cheek in a club; and then a photo Aaron can actually recognise as Matt and his sister, leaning against each other and smiling up into the camera, some kind of field or park behind them.

He snaps up straight as he hears the door open, and tries to look casual leaning against the counter and not like he was snooping or trying to work out how old Matt had been in that picture.

“So,” Matt begins as he walks through, still straightening his jumper. “Mr. Not Mechanic, let’s start-” he stops in his tracks as he looks at Aaron, startled confusion furrowing his brows. “Uh, you can sit down, if you like.”

Aaron shrugs, pushes down on the bloated ball of awkwardness in his gut as he pulls out the nearest chair and drops into it.

“Want me to, take your jacket, or...?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Ok. Drink?” He shrugs again, but before he can work out a way to say _I’m not bothered_ without sounding like a comedy-sketch teenager, Matt offers, “I was gonna have a coffee...”

“Tea, then. Please. If you’re brewing.”

“Milk?” he asks as moves to grab the kettle.

“Yeah. No sugar.”

He nods, and Aaron picks at the table’s worn edge, glancing at Matt as he fills the kettle. He’s still, the rushing water the only sound in the apartment, and suddenly, amongst all the colour and warm light, Aaron feels like a useless black lump.

“So,” he clears his throat. “How long have you lived here?”

Matt looks surprised he asked, raising an eyebrow and snapping the lid in place as he thinks. “Must be about six, seven years. I moved in ‘bout a year after uni.”

Aaron nods, filing the information away as the kettle starts bubbling.

“I’m lucky, actually,” Matt continues, leaning back against the counter near Aaron, a smile back on his lips. “Landlord hasn’t raised the rent the whole time. Too busy living it up in Portugal on the back of his other properties, I guess.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, though it does mean I’m too scared to call him when anything goes wrong,” he chuckles to himself, turning to pull mugs from the rack. “I’ve pretty much taught myself all there is to know about plumbing by now. There was a weird hole that appeared in the wall once, so I forked out for a guy to come fix that, but by this point it’s worth losing the deposit.”

Aaron hums, looking around the flat again. “It’s a nice place.”

“Thanks,” he replies almost shyly, glancing at Aaron from the side. “Sorry if it’s a bit messy; I didn’t think to tidy.”

Aaron snorts. “Do I look like the type to care about that?”

“Never can tell,” Matt teases, placing their cups down and taking a seat opposite him, grinning over his mug as he takes a sip. The dark green of his jumper makes his eyes brighter than Aaron remembers, and he takes a drink himself, looking into the mug and fiddling with the handle.

“What were you going to say?” he asks after a moment, glancing up to catch Matt’s questioning look. “Before.”

“Oh,” he puts his mug down. “I was gonna ask what you did, since you’re a mechanic that doesn’t mechanic.”

Aaron scrunches his face at the half-hearted humour, lips still lifting a bit. “I’m a scrapper. I worked at that garage, the one in the paper, for years, but now I run a scrap business.”

“You own it?” Matt asks, eyebrows and voice raised so high, Aaron can only nod. “That’s impressive.”

Aaron shrugs, taking another large sip of tea; he is proud of what he’s done, especially keeping the business growing on his own, but he doesn’t necessarily like talking about it.

“So,” Matt shifts the topic when it’s clear Aaron’s not going to say anything more, shifting in his seat with it. “Any ideas on how we should do this dating crash course thing?”

Aaron snorts, “It was your idea mate.” He puts the mug down with a thunk, meeting Matt’s eyes firmly. “Both times.”

“But one you went along with. Both times.” Matt says pointedly, smug smile disappearing behind his cup as he takes some dumbed-down version of a victory sip. Aaron folds his arms as he turns away to hide his small smile, but Matt plays the game, never looking away from the side of Aaron’s face and waiting the silence out until Aaron glances back at him and breaks the standoff himself.

“It’s your parents we’ve got to deal with today; shouldn’t you have a list or something that they’re going to ask us about?”

“My grandparents raised us,” he says easily, putting his cup down and folding his hands in front of him. “So it’ll just be them and my sister.”

Aaron knows that road, and all the reasons why it might curve like a winding dirt track, so he goes right past it. “Won’t your sister’s partner be there?”

He bites off a laugh, “She hasn’t got one.”

Aaron frowns, shifting forward. “Then why are they playing matchmaker with you?”

“I’ve asked them the same thing,” he enthuses, leaning forward too. “But apparently a year is within the acceptable timeframe of being single.”

“That so?” Aaron teases.

“That, and she’s already given them grandkids.” He picks his mug back up, smirking. “One of which was even in wedlock.”

Aaron smirks as Matt takes a sip. “You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

“Clearly,” he lowers the cup again, licking a stray drop of his lips as he thinks. “She’s six years older than me,” he says a little more seriously. “So they were stricter with her, being the oldest, and a bit more relaxed with me in terms of rules and school and stuff.” His eyes snap back to Aaron, an over expressive hand coming up to point in Aaron’s direction, “Still forced me to go to uni, mind you.”

Aaron breathes a small laugh, notices the way it makes Matt smile.

“But,” he continues. “It didn’t stop them meddling in everything else. And being older, she felt she had to meddle too. Always asking me questions, always on my back with this passive, _I know better than you do_ thing; I’d sort of hoped we’d grow out of it, at least with Chloe, but here we are. Curse of being the baby of the family, I guess.”

Aaron chuffs, “What, at 30?”

“Ah,” Matt smiles smugly, a glint in his eye, “the telling words of someone with younger siblings. You wait till they’re 30.” He raises his mug, giving Aaron a pointed, if not humoured, look. “Or 29.”

Aaron jokingly scrunches his nose at Matt’s pointless distinction, but still he tries to picture Liv older, with a career and work clothes, maybe with a line or two by her eyes, but he can’t. The best he can conjure up is that time she put her hair in a high bun when she was painting her final art project paired with one of the three skirts she owns, her cheeks still smooth and rosy and a little round.

“So?” Matt jerks Aaron out of his musings, “Little brothers, sisters?”

“Sister. Liv. She’s 10 years younger than me.”

Matt hums, nodding in some faux-solidarity with Liv as he puts his mug back on the table. “Not long till you’ll be bugging her about dating either, then.”

Aaron shakes his head with a small laugh, refraining from mentioning he’s not even sure how interested Liv is in that sort of thing. “No, but she likes to bug me about it. I think it’s just a girl thing.”

“Yeah,” Matt scoffs. “Coz your dad was super chill about the whole thing.”

It startles a laugh from Aaron, the casual, normal way Paddy’s called his dad; as if he is, as if he always was. Aaron’s seen him that way for years, but he’s not used to people outside of himself thinking it. Paddy’s always been ‘like a dad’, or more likely Aaron’s handler. Or just the poor sod lumped with him when Chas gave up.

“So,” he swings the conversation back Matt, glossing over the warm _pride_ that sits in his chest. “C’mon, what do I need to do or know for lunch?”

He falls back into his chair, taking his mug with him, drinking as he watches Matt frown and bite his lip.

“I dunno, really. They’ve already asked how we met, what you were like; I think they just want to meet you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we met in a club,” he shrugs. “I didn’t give any details, but it’s assumed it was a one night stand that went better than expected.”

Aaron nods, it’s simple and easy enough to believe for both of them. “And what about me? I’m not gonna have to pretend to speak Spanish or anything...”

Matt chuckles, and there’s that look in his eye again as he leans his chin on his hand. “I said something along the lines of you being the strong and silent type. For some reason it seemed better fitting to the picture than flamenco dancer.”

Aaron rolls his eyes and swirls his cup, watching the murky brown catch the light in flashes as he pushes the sudden memory of Faith and her ‘ _better if you smiled_ ’ from his mind.

“And what about you.” He mumbles, deciding this time to cut away from the hint of playfulness. “What are you like?”

Matt blinks, surprised, like two chance meetings and a cuppa was enough to know him as well as his family would be expecting. “Er,” he stumbles, still looking at Aaron like he’s in the process of growing a second head. “I dunno. I work, a lot. I like to be at home relaxing or go out with my mates when I’m not.” He picks at the table, the silence almost startlingly stilted when Matt’s thrown off kilter. He peers up at Aaron, gentle frown in still in place, offering a final, “I can’t cook,” questioningly, like he’s trying to work out if that’s what Aaron wanted to hear.

He quirks an eyebrow. “You can’t cook?”

“Well,” he shuffles, pushing his cup with his fingertip. “I can boil vegetables and pasta to death, and heat up a can well enough, but I’m not exaggerating when I say I’ve struggled with a Pot Noodle before.”

Aaron finds himself smiling despite himself. “So no romantic dinners in, then.”

“Lord, no,” Matt huffs, easing back into his own body. “We always eat out. Or go for a drink. Y’know,” the frown twitches back in place, briefly. “Normal date stuff.”

Aaron nods, taking another sip of tea that’s on the cusp of being too cool.

“So,” Matt encourages. “What’s Aaron Dingle really like then?”

Aaron looks at him, looks back to his mug, “Strong and silent pretty much covers it,” and drains it.

When Aaron doesn’t say anything more, Matt hums uncommitted, only speaking again after Aaron puts his mug back on the table, all without looking back at Matt. “I don’t think we have to worry about that kind of thing anyway. Honestly, they’re just gonna be happy enough that you exist to care about the details, it’s been that long.”

“How long has it been?” Aaron can’t help asking, though it comes out in low, uncaring drawl as he hooks his elbow on the back of his chair and meets Matt head on again.

It doesn’t last long, as Matt’s eyes drift to the ceiling, a little furrow on his forehead as he finds the answer. “Seven or eight years?”

Aaron chokes on some lazy, unnoticed drop of tea still lingering in the back of his throat, facing Matt’s startled expression with his own bewilderment, “Eight years?!”

“Or seven!” Matt’s quick to throw back, that soft furrow now deep, shaky, confused lines that tell Aaron it’s definitely been eight.

“Wow,” Aaron mutters, setting himself right in his chair again and rubbing his neck, trying to brush them both passed his overreaction. “When you said it’d been a while, I didn’t think it’d been that long.”

“Yeah, alright,” he grumbles, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re here to reduce the judgement Aaron, not add to it.”

“Sorry,” he says easily. “I’m just surprised. You don’t, well,” he coughs, throws an arm out in Matt’s direction “You don’t look like you’d be single that long.”

Matt shuffles, holding his gaze, brow twitching again. “There’s a compliment in there, somewhere.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.” When Matt doesn’t unfurl or lean back onto the table, Aaron does. “C’mon, you can’t tell me people aren’t surprised you’re single.”

“I like being single,” he shrugs, and though he stays right where he is, Aaron can see him loosening as Aaron doesn’t argue. “It’s not that I’m against having a relationship, I’m just happy as I am.”

Aaron just can’t imagine it. The being single, being alone part he can, easily, but not the fulfilled happiness part. He’s never minded being single; doesn’t mind a bit of casual dating and the no-dating-at-all hook ups, and these last few months with just himself and his family have been some of the most healing of his life, but to go years like that? It’s not something he’ll readily admit to others, but Aaron knows he’s the kind of simple guy that wants to be in a relationship, to have someone to love and to love him back, to have someone to go home to, always.

It’s all he’s ever wanted since his mum left- actually, since the arguing started and raised voices and harsher words than he could understand were what welcomed him home from school and sent him to sleep at night. It’s all he’s ever wanted, enough to get antsy over it, and enough to shoot himself in foot for it.

There’s a startlingly real analogy there that Aaron ignores with a practiced ease.

He can’t imagine being happy alone – and god knows he’s tried, tried, tried – but Matt is. And glancing round the flat again, a flat that’s only ever been Matt’s, with its trinkets and mishmash of comforts, bright decorations spread across the room in a celebration solely for Matt, he knows it’s true.

“If I’m gonna have to start defending myself to you,” Matt says when Aaron takes too long to respond. “I might as well’ve not made you up.”

Aaron laughs, a little bit annoyed at himself when he sees the way it makes Matt’s lip curl up, and a little bit not. “Not judging,” he reiterates. “Neither of us is in a position to judge after signing up to this.”

“Agreed,” Matt smiles, his arms uncurling and coming to rest on the table again, though he stays sat back as a frown twitches in place. “There is one other thing we need to work out.”

Aaron raises an eyebrow.

“What do we do about the couple-y, PDA stuff?” Aaron feels stupid for being thrown by the question, but that side of things hadn’t even occurred to him. “I’m kind of a touchy guy,” Matt continues, wiggling his fingers at Aaron from where his hands rest on the table. “But I’m getting the impression you’re not.”

“No,” Aaron mutters with a frown, looking at where Matt’s hands have stilled. “I’m not really into that kind of thing.”

“Ok,” Matt nods easily, thinking something through. “Can I put my arm on the back of your chair, and stuff like that?”

“It’s not the touching I mind,” - not anymore, at least - “but the public part,” he clarifies. “The kissing and cuddling and sweet nothings or whatever; that’s not my thing.” He thinks it through, tries to picture what might come up and what they’ll have to do to convince a nosy older sister who doesn’t miss a beat and the salacious apatite of his mother and gran. “A kiss or a hug goodbye, that kind of thing’s fine.”

“Alright,” Matt shrugs. “I’ll follow your lead on that.” He looks to the side, shoulders sagging a little. “Well, I guess we better make a move. It’ll take about half an hour.”

Aaron blinks and turns to look at the clock too as Matt stands; it wasn’t like the time had flown by, but he’s still surprised it’s ticked by as easily as it has.

“You want anything before we head out?”

Aaron gets up, hovering awkwardly for a moment as he contemplates his dirty cup, but since Matt left his, he decides to go ahead and stand awkwardly by Matt instead as he kneels to put on his trainers.

“No. Ta.” There’s a glint as Matt’s shoulders move, and Aaron catches a glimpse of a fine gold chain across the back of his neck before he stands up and grabs a coat by the door.

“Oh, hang on.” Aaron steps back quickly as Matt walks hurriedly past him, back towards his bedroom. “Gotta turn everything off.”

The pinkish hue from the other doorway cuts out, and Aaron snorts as he watches Matt dart around the living room, the colourful warmth gradually fading with each flick of a switch. “An eco-warrior, huh?”

Matt grins with a quick shake of the head as he walks back to Aaron. “Fire-fighter.”

He probably should have guessed that.

“And what,” he defends with sarcasm instead. “Fairy lights give you a lot of trouble do they?”

“Only every year,” Matt chuckles, reaching for his keys blindly as he keeps his eyes on Aaron. “You’d be surprised at the things I’ve seen catch fire, just to prove that they can.”

Aaron grunts noncommittally, shoving his hands in his pockets and, a moment later, belatedly realises his in the way of the door, though Matt hadn’t said anything.

“By the way,” he says casually after Aaron’s moved aside, opening the door. “There was never an appropriate time to tell you, but that picture didn’t do you justice.”

Aaron frowns reactively, though there’s a warm tingling in his hands. “What?”

“In the paper,” he answers simply, nodding at Aaron to go through the door.

“Then why’d you say I was your boyfriend?” Aaron asks as he turns around, waiting for Matt to follow; because for all the reasons Aaron now has, that question still feels unanswered.

Matt’s eyebrows twitch dubiously, a confused humour pulling at his lips. “You were still fit. And there.” He answers like it was obvious, pulling the door behind him. “I’m a simple man, Aaron.”

~~~

The drive over is easy enough, Matt handing control of the music to Aaron with a promise that he’ll listen to just about anything; his favourite music falls under the broad, fairly useless umbrella of something with meaning or anything he can dance to, so Aaron takes his word for it and settles on music that’s familiar to him, soothing and distracting all at once.

True to his word, Matt’s fingers tap and his leg bounces the whole way.

Conversation is sparse but light, and everything’s fine until they pull onto his grandparents’ road, about as suburban as Yorkshire gets with seemingly identical two-up-two-downs lining the street either side with hedges and trees thrown in in an attempt to mark borders, and Aaron starts to feel nervous again.

They pull into the driveway of a house that looks just a little more run down than the others; the wooden window frames fraying, paint peeling in patches, and the grass a little less green and little more weedy than their neighbours’. But it’s still a nice looking place, with vibrant flowers in planters along the house, some in a basket hanging by the door.

Aaron thinks he’d be able to tell old people lived here even if he hadn’t known.

Matt cuts the engine and sighs deeply as he leans his head back against the rest. “Ready to face the onslaught?”

Aaron looks back at the front door, half-surprised Matt’s family hadn’t come racing out to meet them already, and finds himself admitting quietly, “I haven’t done this in a long time.”

Matt scoffs, “Longer than eight years?”

Aaron keeps staring at the house; doesn’t want to go into his dating history right now or try and explain it.

“Well,” Matt says softly. “We’re in good company then.”

Aaron turns to see Matt smiling gently at him, and suddenly, completely out of nowhere, he looks tired. Like he’d rather be anywhere than going into that house.

The restless nerves fall from Aaron shoulders.

“I promise you Aaron,” he continues calmly. “You can’t mess this up. And if by some miracle this all goes to pot, then it’s on me.”

It seems like Matt might say something else, but the twitch of a net curtain catches Aaron’s eye. He sighs, and reaches for his door. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”

The front door doesn’t open before they get to it, to Aaron’s surprise, but it does the second Matt knocks, revealing an old lady with grey hair neatly pinned back and a brooch on her cardigan that somehow manages to catch the dismal sunlight barely illuminating the relentless grey clouds.

Aaron can see the visible strain it takes for her not to look at him

“Matthew, dear!” She reaches up with her tiny hands, framing her grandson’s face and pulling him down for a kiss on the cheek instead, his hands coming to rest on her sides in a practised motion. “Perfect timing; we just finished laying the table.”

As soon as Matt starts easing back, she can’t keep up the fight and immediately looks to Aaron, her heavily wrinkled eyes almost squinting as she smiles widely at him, her hands coming to rest against her chest.

Aaron swallows and tries to give a small smile back. It feels more like a twitch, but Matt’s sweeping in before Aaron starts to feel self-conscience about it.

“Gran, this is Aaron. Aaron,” Matt turns to him, not a hint of unease in his own smile as he gestures to the old lady. “This is my grandma, Rose.”

Aaron shuffles forward awkwardly and holds out his hand; she seems surprised at first, but she still manages to take his hand in both of hers and speaks before Aaron even says _hello_.

“Aaron, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says earnestly, her hands so tellingly soft and small that Aaron barely shakes it. “Thank you for coming out here for lunch.”

“Thanks for having me,” he manages through the heavy lump in his throat.

She releases him but keeps her hands outstretched towards him, smile still in place. “Shall I take your coats?”

“I’ll do that, Gran,” Matt says automatically, stepping forward a little and unintentionally but thankfully putting a bit of space between Rose and Aaron as he starts unzipping his coat. “Chloe’s already here, yeah?”

“Oh yes, she came over early today,” she steps aside, making room for Matt to move towards the hooks, Aaron sticking close to his side as he undoes his own jacket. A little frown plays between her eyebrows, as she adds, “She seemed to think you were a bit embarrassed the other day, so she wanted to put mistletoe all over the place.” Matt groans, dramatically collapsing onto his coat where he just finished hanging it. “We didn’t let her, obviously. Honestly, you two are worse now than when you were kids.”

She turns back to Aaron, letting the soft admonishing look drop and smiles at him in a _what will we do with them_ way that Aaron supposes he’s meant to understand.

Matt turns to him, holding out his hand and interrupting him before he can even attempt to match her fondness.

He gives him his coat with a weird sense of gratitude.

“Well,” Matt says a little tongue-in-cheek, a little genuinely petulant as he hangs it up. “I want it on record she started it today.”

“Enough,” she sighs with a gentle swat to his arm, choosing to ignore him in favour of gesturing Aaron to follow her with a smile. “Come on through, Aaron dear. Would you like anything to drink?”

His step falters at first, and he glances back to see Matt’s coming too. He clears his throat, “Beer, please. If you have it.”

She says something affirmative that Aaron doesn’t catch as his eyes unwittingly track down the little old figure in front of him; pretty hair pin to match her brooch neatly in place, a dark red cardigan, a straight grey skirt that ends just above her ankles, and smart black shoes with wide, barely there heals to them – she’s everything TV told him grandmas should be, and he has no idea how he’s going to break the concept of Faith to Matt.

As soon as he steps through the doorway, he’s simultaneously hit with the rich smell of roast beef and the sight of brightly coloured garlands draped from the ceiling, corners to centre, in place of Chloe’s mistletoe. He can’t help looking round as he walks in distractedly, the abundance of decorations almost oppressive but they’re placed in such a way that Aaron instantly knows they’ve probably been put in the same position every year. Some probably for as long as Aaron’s been alive.

It’s not hard to see the resemblance with Matt’s flat; it’s gaudy to Matt’s tacky, and more paper to his plastic, and there’s hanging decorations and nativity scenes where Matt would favour spooling lights upon lights, but there’s colour and something to see in every corner, and a family trait as strong as the similitude between Matt and Chloe.

“Aaron,” he jumps at the bright call, eyes only then landing on the people in the room, and just in time to catch a glimpse of Chloe as she rushes to him, gently placing her hands on his arms and kissing the air by his cheek in greeting. “Nice to see you again!”

“Yeah,” he manages, hands hovering awkwardly by her elbows in a state of shock. “You too.”

“Back off, traitor,” Matt says as he steps to Aaron’s side, pushing at her shoulder and effectively moving her away and bringing her attention on to him. “Gran said what you were planning.”

“Oh, lighten up,” she rolls her eyes, and Aaron watches as they wrap their arms around each other with ease, hugging with a squeeze even as they bicker. “It was just a joke.”

“I’ll remember that for the next poor sod you bring round.”

“Children,” Aaron turns to find Rose gone and an old man in her place to dish out the soft reprimands. He smiles at Aaron warmly as he makes his way over. “Not while we have guests over.”

“Gramps,” Matt stands beside him again, hand drifting behind Aaron’s back before quickly dropping to his side again. “This is Aaron.”

“I’d gathered,” he replies, sharing a playful smirk with Aaron, thankfully offering out his hand without the hesitation of Rose or Chloe. “Nice to meet you, though feel free to call me John, if you prefer.”

Aaron takes his hand easily; bad humour and firm hand shake being familiar ground. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“And you lad,” John beckons Matt over, and once again, Aaron watches as they embrace warmly. For the first time in many, many years, Shadrach comes to mind; he was once – and the irony is not at all lost on Aaron – the most welcoming and even loving member of the Dingles to Aaron, sitting him down to teach him games, letting him have a sip of his beer, and just spending time with him when no one else would. Later, Aaron realised that was because no one would spend time with Shadrach either, but even back then, when all Aaron knew him to be was a smelly, wobbly old granddad and all Shadrach saw was his straight, mischief making grandson who’d actually listen to him, he’d have never hugged Aaron like Matt was being hugged now, John almost tiptoeing to reach around him and an unmistakable fondness to his voice. “I swear you’ve gotten even bigger since we last saw you.”

“He’s probably been at the gym more,” Chloe offers with a telling smile. “Now he’s got a boy to impress.”

Matt’s shoulders drop, and Aaron doesn’t have to see to know he’s rolling his eyes at her. “Can you give it a rest?” He turns back to his grandpa, patting his shoulders as he finally steps away. “You’re just shrinking Gramps, it comes with age.”

“You’ll know soon enough,” he teases back, Rose calling to them before Matt can respond.

“I’ve put your drinks on the table boys, if you’d all like to come through.”

Aaron looks over to her at the far end of the room, where a dining table is all laid out, and somehow just looking at the food enhances the smell that had greeted Aaron warmly as he stepped in.

John moves immediately, Aaron following his lead hesitantly before realising Matt and Chloe have started talking quietly to each other instead of heading to the table. He pauses, standing awkwardly where living room melds into dining room, and glances between the table and Matt; he’d rather Matt take the lead here, show him where to sit so he doesn’t get caught between his gran and his sister.

Although the grandparents seem equally as occupied as they talk over John’s carving, Aaron tries to cover his dawdling by looking around the room as if the numerous decorations distract and enthral him. But in doing so, a large photo catches his eye, resting atop the mantelpiece opposite him. Aaron assumes it’s Chloe at first, but there’s a telling brown tinge to the paper that Aaron knows must be from the 70s, at least, and the longer he looks at it, the more the woman stands out, not Chloe, but very similar. Their mother, he guesses, and then knows as he slowly recognises her smile and the line of her nose. Bright silver tinsel has been carefully placed along the top of her black frame, the lights catching the foil strands and almost twinkling.

Finished with their whispered bickering, Matt and Chloe walk past it without a glance.

Aaron follows them, Matt quickly looking toward him like he’d forgotten he was there. He offers Aaron a timid, questioning smile, which he returns with a nod; it’s going ok, so far, but they’ve still got all of lunch to go.

“Wow, Gran,” Matt says as they step up to the table, laden with dishes upon dishes of food, and Aaron can see his genuine surprise. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Well, it’s a special occasion,” she enthuses, turning a bright smile on Aaron. “And besides, I thought this might be the last time you come round for lunch before Christmas. Especially now you have Aaron.”

Matt shrugs, “Yeah I guess so,” giving Aaron a small smile as he pulls out one of the chairs for him.

Aaron frowns at him quickly before taking the seat, spotting a cold bear sitting in front of him and realising Rose had already sorted the seating arrangements for them.

As the others settle around him, he looks up to see a couple more framed photos on the wall – too small for him to make the details out – and a weirdly symmetrical cluster of crosses that he gets the impression aren’t just up for Christmas. It’s mildly disconcerting – he doesn’t think even Edna had four hanging in one place – but they’re quickly forgotten when Rose urges him to serve himself.

As they plate up and start to eat, the family around him slip into the easy and familiar chatter they undoubtedly do at every meal they have together. It’s relaxing, in a way, that they’re treating this like any other Sunday lunch, talking about things Aaron has no idea about but offering him a smile here and a glance there so he doesn’t feel like he’s being talked around.

It’s comfortable, a bit like watching TV, and he’s beginning to think that being present is all he’ll have to do when Rose leans forward in her seat and meets his eye with an encouraging smile.

“So, Aaron,” she chirps, the tell-tale tone of small talk in her voice. “You’re a mechanic.”

“Handy trade, that,” John points out with a fork full of cabbage and meat.

“Actually,” Aaron coughs, swallowing and trying not to let the fact he’s got everyone's sole attention bother him. Everyone but Matt, who tucks into his food with some exaggeration. “I’m a scrapper. I’ve just been helping out at my uncle’s garage over the holidays.”

“Oh,” Rose says with surprise. “It’s just the article...” she trails off, shooting a gentle frown at Matt. “Why didn’t you say anything, Matthew?”

He looks up at her and talks carefully through his mouth full. “He didn’t tell me until after that thing in the paper.” He glances at Aaron, smirking slightly as continues. “I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that’s a signature move for Aaron; luring blokes in with the uniform.”

Aaron snorts, barely registering John’s quite chuckle. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew who I’ve been sharing those overalls with.”

Matt’s got a glint in his eye that hooks Aaron’s interest; he’s clearly got something on the tip of his tongue, and Aaron holds the eye contact, a little swell of warmth blooming in his stomach, strangely eager to hear what he has to say, but Chloe speaks before Matt does. “You don’t have to wear a uniform for scrapping?”

Aaron turns to her, almost shocked to remember she was there, “Er, not really. Just a hi-vis jacket and some gloves.”

She shrugs, only the quickest glance at her brother giving her nonchalance away. “Matt’s not picky.”

“Pickier than you,” he throws back lowly, but his grandparents still hear, of course, given that they’re sitting round a table of five.

“Scraping’s a good business,” John butts in, dividing his attention equally between his food and Aaron as he talks. Aaron vaguely wonders if he’s following Matt’s lead or if that’s just how he is generally. “And mechanic skills too; you’re a useful guy to have around.” He gives him a wide grin that Aaron finds himself returning, albeit on a smaller scale. “Is it too soon for us to get a family discount?”

“John,” Rose scolds breathily, like she’s tired of her family’s behaviour. Aaron can’t imagine how she’d cope around a Dingle table.

“I don’t mind having a look,” he offers offhandedly as he cuts into the puffiest Yorkshire pudding he’s ever seen. “If you’re having some trouble.”

“Oh, ignore him dear.” He glances up, almost taken aback to see Rose looking at him with stars in her eyes, like he offered her the moon on a stick and not a quick look at their car. “He’s just a cheap old man looking for a bargain. There’s nothing wrong with the car.”

“The MOT is coming up, though,” John’s quick to slip in, and with the sly little smile he shoots Aaron as Rose swats his arm, Aaron knows he’s said it just to wind her up.

A strange warmth sweeps over him, brief and prickly. This – these four people – are a family. It’s similar to the feeling he gets driving home down the winding, wintery roads, looking into the warmly lit windows of the houses he passes, except Aaron has been welcomed straight into this home, privy to its squabbles and teasing and love.

He turns to glance at Matt surreptitiously, only to find Matt already looking at him contemplatively, a small smile on his lips. He ducks his head a little when Aaron catches him, but he doesn’t shy away, smile ticking up before he turns to take another mouthful.

Matt’s good looking. Aaron’s known that from the start, though was perhaps a bit slower in admitting it to himself.

Eight years seems like a very long time.

He glances round the table, everyone looking _delighted_ , and can’t help wondering how much of this is natural to them and how much is effort they’ve put into making Aaron feel welcome, desperate for someone to love Matt as much as they do, to stick around and settle him down. Or whatever it is that’s got them on Matt’s back about dating.

“I forgot to ask,” Chloe pipes up, and Aaron turns to her. “How was that new Greek restaurant down Bushels Road? You guys went the other week, right?”

“Yep,” Matt answers easily, seemingly more interested in loading up his fork; Aaron follows suit, looking back at his food and trying not to look clueless. “It was nice. Bit dark in there because they’ve got these pretty lanterns up, but they might change that, and the food was good.”

“Yeah?” She asks conversationally, and Aaron looks up to see she’s directing it at him, gently trying to involve him the conversation.

He swallows and nods.

“Yeah, it was alright,” he’s tempted to leave it there, but she’s got that same earnest look as before and really, conversations don’t have to be as hard as Aaron always makes them. There’s no pressure here, Matt had assured him, and Aaron fights to roll with that, to remind himself that even though they’re not dating, not everything he says has to be a lie. “I don’t mind moussaka, but to be honest I’d just prefer a dodgy kebab.”

That pulls a laugh from everyone, and Aaron cuts a look to Matt to see him grinning at him. Which reminds him...

“There’s a shop by Matt’s flat, actually-”

“God,” Chloe chimes in, leaning forward and smiling widely at him. “That place is a lifesaver. The number of nights we’ve stumbled in there, blind drunk.”

“And when you were pregnant,” Matt points out. He angles himself toward Aaron, placing a hand on his arm briefly like he doesn’t already have Aaron’s attention, and grins as he explains, his other hand moving around as he talks. “When Chloe was pregnant with her first, Ricky, she came to stay with me one night, and at 2 o’clock in the morning she starts craving their awful green chillies-”

“These things were disgusting,” she adds, catching Aaron’s attention. “They were so slimy, and weirdly hot and tasteless at the same time.”

“So,” Matt continues. “She sends me out to the 24 hour Tesco to find some-”

“You offered!”

“Well, I didn’t mean it; it was two in the morning!” He brushes off her continued protests, centred completely on Aaron again. “And I managed to bring back a whole jar of green chillies, but they’re not right. So she keeps complaining until I go down to the kebab shop, knock on their door, and bless them, they actually answered and got us some chillies.”

“I cried,” she says unabashedly, taking another mouthful. “I was hormonal anyway, but it was so sweet of them, I just sat crying, eating those gross things for a good twenty minutes. And now Ricky won’t eat anything hotter than a bit of black pepper in his mash.”

“Where are the boys?” Matt asks as he turns back to his own food.

“At their father’s,” she says with a roll of her eyes, and the conversation continues to flow like that as they eat lunch. Matt occasionally turns to him again to explain something, and though all of them are keen to involve Aaron, they don’t push and he doesn’t offer much, but it’s comfortable, and easy to listen to them, and the food is good.

It gets better, when Rose brings out a homemade tart, and though Aaron’s pretty full, the smell and sight of it make his mouth start to water again.

He’s not the only one, as John sits up straighter, watching Rose eagerly as she cuts it neatly into slices.

“Help yourselves,” she says, pointedly looking at Aaron as she rests a heavy hand on John’s shoulder. “I’ll just get the custard and cream.”

He waits until his wife’s just stepped out the room before leaning forward and sliding the whole dish towards him with a childlike smile. “Age before beauty,” he says as he serves himself, then pushes it towards Aaron with that same smile stuck on his face.

By the time she’s back in the room, they all have a slice so she’s none the wiser, and Matt is telling them about his trip to the coast with some work friends and the little cove they’d found.

“Do you take a picture?” Chloe asks as she drizzles a healthy amount of cream over her dish.

“Yeah, it’s my background pic actually,” he says, leaning towards Aaron has he digs his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it before he passes it to her.

She hums, looking the picture over and briefly showing her gran, grinning when she turns back to Matt. “I’m surprised you haven’t changed this to a couple’s photo yet. Did they have smart phones the last time you dated someone?”

“Did they even have camera phones?” His grandpa adds quietly as he takes a bite of dessert, a teasing smile taking shape as he chews and glances at Matt.

“You’re both extremely funny,” Matt grouses as he snatches his phone back from Chloe. “Especially since you,” he points his spoon towards John, “still send me 5 minute long videos when you thought you’d taken a picture, and you,” he turns back to Chloe, “actually _didn’t_ have a camera phone when you went to uni. Stop rounding me up to your age bracket.”

Chloe leans toward Aaron, eyes still on her brother as she stage whispers, “He’s just touchy because he’s turning 30.”

“I’d noticed,” Aaron offers back, because it was the kind of response that made Chloe laugh and because he knew it would make Matt look at him with that scandalised betrayal.

He takes another spoonful as he keeps his eyes on Matt, watching as he gears up to say something, but Rose beats him to it.

“Why don’t you take a picture now?” They turn to her, not quite following. “For your phone.”

“I have pictures, Gran.” Matt deflects quietly, shifting in his seat.

“But you both look so handsome; wouldn’t it be nice to have one of today?”

Aaron frowns a little at the compliment, completely unused to it from anyone but his mum and gran, but meets Matt’s eyes again and finds himself shrugging.

“Yeah, ok,” Matt replies for them, picking up his phone again.

“Best not let John take it, though,” Aaron jokes without much thought, prompting quiet laughter from everyone, and Matt – when Aaron looks beside him – is watching him through smile-squinted eyes as he chuckles breathily, surprised.

“I’ll take it.” Chloe whips the phone out of his loose grip, prompting them to turn to her, which isn’t the easiest position to be in as she’s to the side.

Matt moves his chair closer and puts his arm across the back of Aaron’s chair, and it’s not much – barely anything at all – but Aaron can feel the warmth of him across his shoulders and down his side like a feather light touch, and leans into it.

Matt shuffles a bit closer, their thighs coming to rest against each other, and only moves his arm to wrap around Aaron’s shoulders proper when Chloe tells them to kiss. “Just take the picture, loser.”

“Ok, ok. Smile!”

Aaron does, finding it easy to do whilst he’s warm, full, and has the tangy sweet taste of apple pie still lingering on his tongue; even with Rose whispering something happily to her husband in his periphery.

Chloe coos when she lowers the phone to look at the picture, and instead of sliding away, Matt leans across him to take his phone.

He does pull away then – not far, with their chairs now pressed together as they are – to look at the photo properly, and Aaron can only watch his reaction as a small smile quirks his lips.

He looks up, something soft and amused in his eyes, and shifts closer again so they can look at the picture together. “What do you think?”

They look like a couple.

That’s the first thing Aaron sees; a couple. They’re closer, cosier than Aaron remembers feeling, and the angle makes it look like he’s got his hand on Matt’s thigh under the table, though he knows he didn’t. They’re leaning into each other and smiling and the lights and decorations behind them are little more than a blur of unmistakably Christmas colour.

They look happy.

_Aaron_ looks happy. He can’t even imagine the last time he would’ve looked as happy as he does here.

And if they look anything like this when they’re in motion, then there’s no doubt they’ve got Matt’s family sold. And a very good shot of getting his own family off his back too.

“Not bad, is it?” Matt whispers with a smirk, knocking his shoulder against Aaron’s.

“Not bad at all.”

~~~

They both heave a sigh when they’re safely back in Matt’s car.

He doesn’t waste time in starting the engine and pulling out, even as his family stand in the doorway to wave them off, the bright hall light shining behind them and cutting into the darkness that has finally decided to descend at the grand time of 3 o’clock.

“Well,” he says once they’re on the road. “I’d say that was a success.”

Aaron huffs, sinking further into the seat; he feels exhausted, though he can’t say why. He’d had a nice time, really. As far as having family dinners with complete strangers went. It had been simple, he hadn’t had to act or lie much, but he’s feeling drained now.

“I told you it would be easy,” Matt continues, clearly not affected in the same way as Aaron is. “They weren’t gonna be fussy after so long.”

“So I could’ve been anyone.”

Matt laughs, cutting a look at him and reaching to hit his knee but clumsily redirecting for the gear shift instead. “Not what I said.”

“S’what I heard.”

“You were great.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that cuts Aaron’s teasing short. “They loved you. I meant they weren’t going to be asking too many questions or putting pressure on us when they’ve waited so long for me to bring someone home. They wouldn’t have wanted to scare you off!”

“Why has it been so long?” Aaron finds himself asking outright. Part of him wants to reach out and shove all those words back in his mouth, but the rest of him can’t help thinking about it. Matt’s fit, friendly, and could probably flirt the brown off a paper bag; he’d probably try, if left alone with one for long enough.

Aaron knows what Matt said before, but he just can’t match that up with eight years.

He also knows that might be his issue though; being alone has, more often than not, meant not being enough in Aaron’s experience.

But he’s working on that.

Matt glances at him, just enough for Aaron to see his surprise, so he quickly mutters, “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Matt assures haltingly. “It’s just, like I said, I like being single.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He doesn’t, but he sees it in Matt, that happy, contented confidence. He leaves it at that and looks out the passenger window, watching the strange shapes the headlights make against the darkened hedge beside them.

“There’s no real reason,” Matt offers quietly after a moment. “I guess I just haven’t had the time.”

Aaron scoffs quietly, “What, in eight years?”

“Ok,” he concedes with humour. “Maybe I haven’t made time, then.”

Aaron lets the silence sit, absently watching Matt’s hands move on the wheel. For a short while, it’s just the sound of the engine and the rise and fall of its growl as he shifts gears, until Matt speaks again.

“It’s not easy, dating a fire-fighter.” Aaron looks at him, sees that he’s still relaxed in the bounce back of the headlights. “People like the idea, but the reality can be too much. Four days on, four days off; working through weekends and holidays. And when you have a bad day at work,” he cuts a look to Aaron, a humourless smile stretching his lips. “It’s a _bad_ day.”

Aaron nods even though Matt’s watching the road again.

“Plenty of people make it work, obviously,” he continues. “And I’m not saying that’s why I’ve not had a boyfriend in a while, but,” he shrugs his shoulders, reaches to shift gear again. “Relationships take work, don’t they? And dating a fire-fighter takes a lot of time and effort, especially in the beginning, and I guess I just haven’t met someone that made me want to put that time in, when I can just collapse as soon as I get in from work, go out with my mates, and go home with someone when I’m in the mood.”

Aaron rolls his head against the headrest to stare out the windshield, thinking it over. He feels Matt glance at him, but doesn’t bother looking back.

“I guess that makes me sound selfish.”

“No,” Aaron replies easily. “It sounds like a pretty decent way to live to me.”

Matt huffs a laugh, but doesn’t say anything else. A quietness settles again, before Matt asks gently, “How about you? When did you break up with your ex?”

“A few months ago.”

Matt hums with a nod, and doesn’t press for more. He probably has a right to, given Aaron’s probing, but a quick glance shows that he’s sitting relaxed, driving with a loose grip, and he doesn’t seem to care much anyway.

They continue in a comfortable silence for a while, until the signs for Hotten and Connelton start popping up.

“You came by bus, right?” Matt asks quietly, almost careful of breaking the silence.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can drive you home, if you’d like.”

Surprised, Aaron shifts to sit up straighter. “No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind,” Matt says breezily. “It’s not far, and it’ll save you waiting around. You live in Emmerdale, right?”

“Yeah,” he answers hesitantly, watching Matt and trying to gauge how genuine the offer is from his half-lit profile. “Are you sure?”

He turns to Aaron with a smile, “Of course.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve been called out there a couple of times,” Matt continues as he takes the turn for Connelton instead of the road back to Hotten. “You get a lot going on there, for such a small village.”

Aaron can’t help scoffing, “You’re gonna be having tea with most of the people who cause it soon.”

Matt chuckles, “Yeah?” He looks over at Aaron quickly, a smile and an interested look on his face. “From a family of troublemakers, are you?”

He laughs to himself, rubbing at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have no idea.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be finding out soon.” He’s grinning as he keeps his eyes on the road, and Aaron wonders if now’s the time to warn him what he’ll be facing; that his own grandparents might as well be a different species to Aaron’s, at the least. But there’s something about the idea of Matt finding that out for himself that makes Aaron smile. “When is round two?”

Matt’s earlier words of never having time immediately come to Aaron’s mind, so he shrugs and says, “Whenever you’re free.”

“Well, I’m on shift again tomorrow. But if you don’t mind it being a late tea, I-”

“No, no,” Aaron cuts in, shaking his head. “We’ll do it when you’re off.”

“Ok. Then anytime from Friday till Monday will be fine.”

Aaron raises an eyebrow, tempted to question his complete availability, but they both signed up for this, and now that Aaron’s done his part, he’s not surprised that Matt’s the type to repay the favour quickly.

He tells Matt he’ll let him know once he’s spoken to his mum – which is something he tries not to think about right now – and they continue to talk lightly until the familiar sight of the veterinary comes into view.

“There’s a drive right at the end,” Aaron says as Matt turns onto Main Street. “And that’s me.”

Matt follows the instructions, and as the headlights sweep over his house as he pulls in, Aaron can see all the lights are off and that Liv hasn’t made it back yet.

“Wow,” Matt says quietly as he cuts the engine, leaving the lights on. “You own this place?”

“Yep,” Aaron replies distractedly as he unbuckles. When he sees Matt’s still looking at the house, he looks over it with a frown, trying to see what’s caught his attention.

“Thanks,” he says, making Aaron look back to him. Matt’s slower in meeting his eyes, but smiles sincerely. “For today.”

Aaron frowns. “S’alright. You’re doing the same for me.”

“I know. But I started it, didn’t I?” he grins knowingly. “And today went really well. So... thanks.”

Aaron huffs a dry laugh, “Don’t thank me until you’ve dealt with my lot.”

He turns towards his door as Matt chuckles, hand on the handle and ready to pull it open before he hesitates. He bites his lip, and glances behind him. “I had a nice time.”

Matt smiles softly, nodding a little. “Me too.”

Aaron opens the door and climbs out, shutting it behind him with a brief wave.

As he digs his keys out, he expects to hear the engine start, but even as he stands by the door, there’s no hint of movement from the car.

He turns, frowning heavily, and with the lights shining in his direction, he can’t tell what Matt’s doing but it’s still not driving away. After another moment of staring the car down and no sign of movement from Matt, something clicks in Aaron’s brain.

“Are you waiting for me to get in the door?” He calls over, incredulous.

He can hear the sound of a window coming down, and then Matt’s head pops out the side, “Yeah?”

“Why?” Aaron shouts, looking at the door right at his back and back to the car, a mild irritation prickling at his insides. “What do you thinks gonna happen?”

“You never know do you, out here in the sticks.” The lights are still partly blinding, but Aaron can see his shit eating grin from here. “Anything could come out these bushes.”

Aaron rolls his eyes and turns back to his door as he shouts, “Go home, Matt.”

He takes his time picking out his key and putting in the lock, but still there’s no sound or movement from behind him. He rolls his eyes and turns around again, folding his arms and leaning against his door.

“You’re stubborn, you know that?”

Matt’s head pops out again, along with an arm this time that points directly at Aaron. “Something about a pot and kettle springs to mind...”

Aaron shakes his head and faces his door again, opening it immediately and flipping Matt off as he shuts it behind him. Straight away, before Aaron even thinks of taking a step out of the foyer, he hears the car start and the light shining through the door windows shifts.

Aaron huffs, and easily pushes the inexplicable, small feeling of a smile away.

~~~~~

Liv’s got the radio on loud, peppy electronics and dodgy harmonies filling the kitchen as she gets her breakfast together.

Aaron sits hunched over his bowl of cereal, going through his phone and wondering if he actually needs to go to the scrapyard or if he can just tell Cain he does and doss around at home for another hour or so.

“So how was it?”

“Hmm?” He offers distractedly, contemplating whether texting Ellis for an update will get him honest answers or not.

“The lunch yesterday, how’d it go?”

He looks up then, surprised she’d ask and half forgetting there was anything to ask about anyway.

She still has her back to him though, busy at the counter in a way Aaron can’t distinguish from genuine or faked normalcy.

“It was alright,” he hedges, but doesn’t feel all that sure about it when she nods and doesn’t say anything else.

As if by summoning, Aaron’s phone buzzes and a message from Matt pops up on screen.

_> In the cold light of day, I’m realising what a relief it is that you’re my fake boyfriend and not a real one._

Aaron frowns and opens his messages up as another comes through.

_> Some things yesterday were embarrassing enough, but thinking about it now, it would’ve been much worse if we were really dating._

Aaron drops his already forgotten spoon in his bowl, and takes his phone in both hands as his brow twitches.

_< It was fine. I told you._

_> Yeah, but you already knew I was a loser before you met them. _

Aaron scoffs.

_< And your boyfriend wouldn’t?_

“That him?”

Aaron’s head snaps up to see Liv pulling a chair out, her plate of eggs and toast already on the table. She’s half looking at him, curiosity probably getting the better of her, but Aaron’s not sure if the hesitancy is coming from her trying not to pry or from her uneasiness about him dating again.

“Yeah,” he finds is the only thing he can say. “It is.”

His phone vibrates again, and Aaron doesn’t miss the way Liv purposefully puts all her focus on cutting her food.

_> I’ll have you know I’m extremely suave and would’ve swept them off their feet _

Aaron bites his lip as it twitches into a smirk.

_< 8 years ago maybe_

_> You’re not gonna let that go, are you?  
>Reducing the judgement, remember. REDUCING_

_< Not judging  
<Just stating facts based on the evidence I have_

“What’s he saying?” Liv asks, gaze darting from Aaron’s face to his phone, a little frown peppering her face as she continues. “Or do I not wanna know.”

Immediately he puts the phone down on the table, face up as if to prove his innocence even as he hopes she can’t read what the messages say; he doesn’t even know why he feels guilty, a small scowl forming as he asks, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she side-eyes his phone before shrugging. “He’s got you looking all...” She waves her knife at him, gesturing at his general existence as if that would explain anything, but before either of them get to speak again, there’s a series of short buzzes that catches both their attention, Aaron’s phone lighting up between them.

“Is that a picture?” Liv questions as Aaron picks his phone up.

_> Speaking of evidence_

There is indeed a picture; the photo Chloe took of him and Matt yesterday. It gives him pause again, the way they look, almost cosied up together, that hand of Aaron’s hidden under the table that for all the world looks like it’s holding Matt by the thigh. They look happy and together, and Aaron doesn’t know how they managed that in a day when it’s taken all his other partners a good few weeks to get a good, natural looking picture together.

It distracts him enough that he almost forgets about Matt’s other message underneath-

_> In case you need it._

-and Liv sitting opposite him.

“What is it?”

His head snaps up, and she’s not even trying to hide her curiosity now, breakfast forgotten as she peers at him and his phone. He glances back down before answering.

“It’s a picture his sister took of us yesterday.”

There’s a small pause, Liv meeting his eyes dead on before she quietly but earnestly asks, “Can I see?”

He blinks, a little surprised that she’d want to, but nods and double taps the picture so it fills the screen and hides the incriminating messages. He goes to pass it to her, but she gets up and stands beside him instead, leaning over his shoulder as he angles the screen for her.

When she doesn’t say anything, he turns to look at her and sees her eyes are widened; he looks back at the photo to see what it is that’s taken her aback, afraid he might have missed something or that Matt had added something teasingly without him noticing, but he can’t see anything out of place.

“You look...” she starts quietly, and Aaron immediately worries that maybe he was wrong, that they don’t look as natural as he thought and instead look – rightfully – like two strangers shoved into shot.

“She sort of took us by surprise,” he hastens to explain. “So if I look weird-”

“You always look weird,” is her kneejerk reply, but she’s still looking at the photo curiously. “You look happy,” she offers after a moment, and before the words can settle, she quickly changes her tone to a more familiar neutrality and asks, “That him, then?”

“Yeah,” he looks back at the photo, Matt smiling out of the screen and looking like he’s leaning into Aaron more than he had been. “That’s Matt.”

She nods, not offering any snide jabs or awkward compliments. She simply stands up straight and turns to meet his eyes.

“So when’s he coming round?”

~~~~~

Aaron fidgets as they wait outside, foot kicking at the gravel and fingers pulling at the sleeves of his jumper.

He’s told Chas and Paddy a hundred times to wait inside, but no, they insist on standing outside the Woolpack with him and now it looks like they’ve formed some kind of weird procession for Matt, a welcoming committee of Dingles for his grand arrival.

Paddy is all but vibrating with excitement, pure prattle coming out of his mouth intermediately with high pitched, uncontainable giggles, and Chas stands the other side, practically counting down the minutes and tapping her foot as she asks question after question long after Aaron stopped replying and chose to ignore her instead.

At least Aaron had managed to scowl the others back inside; he doesn’t want to think about how that’d look to Matt; Aaron’s entire family waiting out in the biting cold to welcome the non-boyfriend.

And Matt thought his own family had been embarrassing.

Chas is just asking for the third time if Aaron was sure Matt had said his favourite tea was lasagne, when Aaron spots his car turning on to Main Street and feels himself straighten like a puppeteer had pulled on his strings.

His reaction doesn’t go unnoticed, or maybe Paddy and Chas would have reacted the same way to seeing any car drive past in their anticipation, but they both stop talking and watch the car slow and park just beyond them with the laser focus of predators stalking prey.

Aaron finds himself fidgeting again, nervous for no reason whatsoever. Maybe even more nervous than he was on Sunday.

Matt doesn’t take his time; there’s a second between his brake lights going out and his door opening, and all three of them watch as he steps out, bright smile in place and a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Ms Dingle,” he calls as he walks straight towards her, a confidence in his stride that Aaron’s only felt when approaching a fight. He holds the flowers out to her, picture perfect smile soft around the edges. “Thank you for inviting me for tea.”

The dumbstruck look on Chas’s face makes Aaron think this is either the best or worst idea he’s ever had.

She takes the bouquet from him in stunned silence, her wide eyes never straying from his face, but he doesn’t let the awkwardness faze him, moving on to Paddy when it’s clear Chas isn’t going to say anything, and offers the same smile and a hand to shake. “Paddy. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Paddy stumbles out, taking Matt’s hand in both of his and shaking with an enthusiastic vigour. “Great to see you. Glad you could make it over.”

Aaron feels a bit awkward when Matt escapes Paddy’s grip, standing in the middle and not being handed anything or greeted. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in Matt’s eyes when they meet Aaron’s that tells him he’s feeling the same. He supposes if he was really Matt’s boyfriend, he would’ve been swept into a hug or a kiss, but Aaron’s never really been that type of person.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and steps forward to stand beside him, bumping his shoulder into him as he asks his parents, “Can we go in now? It’s freezing.”

Matt might not be used to it, but his family is.

“Yeah,” Chas says distractedly, finally glancing away from Matt to look at her flowers like she’s never seen one before. She quickly snaps out of it, giving her head a little shake as she repeats, “Yeah, let’s go in. Best get these in water, eh?” She lifts the bouquet up, a sincere smile forming as she addresses Matt. “Thank you for these. It’s very sweet of you.” She cuts a look to Aaron, her smile falling into something sharp and teasing that instantly puts his hackles up. “Not usually the type Aaron brings home; not sure where he picked you up from.”

“Mum,” he snaps, embarrassed.

“Well, I dunno about that.” Matt offers in a friendly tone, catching Chas’s attention and attempting to diffuse the situation. He looks at Aaron, knocking their shoulders together and grins. “Handsome and his mum owns a pub; I’ve definitely landed on my feet here.”

Aaron rolls his eyes, but he sees Chas and Paddy light up like Christmas trees, grinning like serial killers and sharing a look before Chas trots up to tug on Matt’s arm. “Well, come on in. Tea’s ready; you like lasagne, right?”

Matt glances at Aaron perplexed as he confirms – Matt having been the one to request lasagne, after all – but Aaron just shakes his head and follows a step behind. It doesn’t last long, Chas releasing Matt before they even make to the steps, chatting away and showing Paddy her flowers, unable to resist slipping in a teasing remark.

For one blissful second, Matt and Aaron are forgotten. He can’t help turning to Matt and mocking quietly, “You might want to lay it on thicker; I think they’re still breathing.”

Matt chuckles and knocks his shoulder again, leaning in to whisper, “Ready for round two?”

Aaron huffs and stops for a moment, just before the door as Chas and Paddy disappear into the pub. Matt stays beside him, waiting, and there’s a lightness in Aaron’s tone, even as he warns, “Whatever you’re expecting, it’s not what’s in there.”

Matt grins and shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Aaron scoffs as he pushes the doors open. “Famous last words.”

The familiar smells and sounds of the pub wash over him as he steps through and holds the door for Matt; it’s not exactly busy, but there’s a fair amount of people inside, a familiar sight the week before Christmas.

Faith all but falls from her barstool as they step in, rushing up to Matt before Aaron gets a chance to stop her.

Her hands land on Matt’s chest in an over-familiar, and lingering, pat. “So you’re the fireman,” she greets eagerly, looking up at him from under her lashes and basically his chin, she’s so close to him.

“Er,” he looks to Aaron and back, and Aaron can’t say that there isn’t a small part of him that doesn’t appreciate the thrown look on his face. “We prefer the term fire-fighter these days. But, um-”

“Potato, patato.” She waves off with a laugh, quickly placing her hand very low on her chest as she introduces herself. “I’m Faith, Aaron’s gran. And I know, I know,” she taps his chest again, leaning in with a wolfish grin. “I don’t look it, but I am. I-”

“Mother!” Chas growls, striding up to them. “Can you go sit at the table, please? We’re about to have tea. Unless you have somewhere else to be-”

“Alright, alright. I’m just welcoming Matt here to the family. A boy like this deserves a good welcome.” She gives him a wink and finally steps away, allowing him space to breathe. She gently punches Aaron’s shoulder as she passes, heading to the backroom. “Good work, son,” she leans in to whisper not so quietly. “Very good work.”

Aaron grimaces, but he catches Matt biting his lip in amusement, the red and white Christmas lights glinting in his eyes.

“Sorry about her,” Chas grumbles as she ushers them to follow her. “But you’ll want to get used to it, since I couldn’t talk her out of staying for tea.”

As they walk to the bar opening, Aaron can feel people staring, even catches Nicola and Jimmy whispering to each other as they watch, but he pushes the feeling down.

“Matty,” Chas calls unnecessarily as they step behind the bar. “This is Matt, Aaron’s boyfriend. Can you get their drinks and bring them through?” She lifts her flowers again, smiling at Matt. “I’ll just put these in water.”

“Nice to meet ya,” Matty offers his hand, as friendly as ever and not without a touch of humour at his namesake. “What will it be, lads?”

“Pint,” Aaron states immediately, placing a hand on Matt’s back as he steps around him to lead him into the back.

“Coke, please.”

Aaron flicks his head, gesturing Matt to follow him, as they leave the warm reds, whites, and greens of the pub behind to step into an abundance of grey, purple, and blue decorations. They’re so familiar to Aaron he barely notices them, but he sees Matt look around as they step in, much like Aaron had done last Sunday, his eyes following every string of tinsel and trying to catch every ornament.

And finding a lot of other things Aaron has become too used to.

“Oh my god,” he hears Matt whisper excitedly, and turns to find him leaning toward the cabinet with a wide a grin. Aaron knows exactly what he’s looking at before he points to it and turns to him with a down-right thrilled expression. “You were a chav.”

“Don’t look at that.” He hastens to his side, even though the damage is clearly done.

“I should’ve known really.” His grin is sly, lips stretched over pearly white teeth, and standing this close, Aaron finds himself looking at it a little longer. “How old are you there?” Matt turns back to the picture, briefly biting his lip as he adds a teasing, “Please say 25.”

“Like 17,” Aaron grumbles, turning away to admonish Chas. “Why do you still have that up, Mu-” He stops in his tracks, spotting a newly placed frame on the wall by the kitchen. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating, and you didn’t actually put it in a frame.”

He stares at the little grumpy picture of himself surrounded by words he can’t read but knows all too well, hoping it will suddenly vanish before his eyes.

“Of course I did. It’s a nice article!” She has the gall to look at him with annoyance as she places her freshly vased flowers on the counter, like he’s the one overstepping. She quickly switches her focus, though. “Matt, have you seen it?”

Aaron would be dying right about now if he’d actually brought a boyfriend back. It’s bad enough with Matt, but thankfully the article is a firm reminder of why they met in the first place.

“Yeah,” he steps up beside Aaron, voice a little uncertain, but Aaron’s sure he’s the only one who notices. Matt glances at him, and Aaron watches the slight uneasiness melt away into something that’s already far too familiar. “He didn’t tell me about it though. I only spotted it whilst my Grandpa was reading the paper.”

“That’s my son,” Chas rolls her eyes, at least a pinch of affection in her tone, but the rest of what she says drifts past Aaron as he keeps eye contact with Matt, his brows twitching into a frown.

“Really?” He says under his breath. “You wanna risk playing that game?”

The corner of Matt’s lip curls up, his green eyes locked on Aaron’s as he whispers back. “Maybe.” He steps in front of Aaron, breaking the look as heads towards the table and replying to something Chas said that Aaron didn’t even hear.

As he follows, he startles a little to find Faith staring at him, already sitting at the table. He frowns at her, but the knowing smile on her painted lips only grows wider, a wink quickly following before she turns her attention to Paddy to boss him around unnecessarily.

A discomfort crawls across the back of Aaron’s shoulders, irritating and unnerving, but Aaron pushes the feeling aside; so he hadn’t realised someone was watching, but all Faith saw was them talking, probably thought they were flirting, and that’s normal for normal couples.

She hadn’t caught them out, even if that’s what it feels like, and that’s what’s important.

“You ok?” Matt asks quietly as Aaron scrapes out a chair beside him and flops into it heavily.

“Fine.” He crosses his arms and bites the inside of cheek as he watches his mum and Paddy talk, trying to tune into what they’re saying since they seem to be involving the whole table. But Matt’s stillness catches Aaron’s attention, and he glances at him to find Matt still looking at him, his brow worried and a hesitant look on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something, leaning toward Aaron just slightly, but that’s when Matty walks in, drinks in hand and with Marlon right at his back.

“Here you go, lads.” He says as Marlon places a giant dish of bubbling lasagne onto the table with a flourish, the rich smell of the mince and the melted béchamel sauce rising with the steam and making Aaron’s mouth water instantly.

“I present to you, the finest lasagne in all of Yorkshire,” Marlon starts, waving his arms around with grandeur as he stands beside Chas’s chair, Matty making a quick and silent escape. “Slow cooked to perfection, with-”

“Yes,” Chas cuts him off. “Thank you, Marlon.” He instantly deflates, though doesn’t look surprised as a familiar expression of resignation falls on his face. “Matt,” she continues, fully ignoring Marlon and adopting a sickly sweet manner that has Aaron rolling his eyes as she takes Matt’s plate. “Shall I serve you some?”

“Um,” he glances up at Marlon who stands forlornly between them, looking at his creation as Chas unceremoniously plops the serving spoon in, ruining the picture perfect top. “Thank you. I can do it, though-”

“Nonsense, you’re a guest,” she titters, Marlon and Faith both snorting and earning a sharp glare.

“Did you do any chips?” Paddy asks Marlon earnestly, but it doesn’t stop him frowning.

“No,” he draws out purposefully. “I didn’t _do_ any chips, as the lasagne has four layers of handmade pasta. I’ve prepared a complimentary salad of-”

“I want chips, too,” Aaron adds as he passes his plate to Chas to be served.

“I really fancy chips,” Paddy says in a falsely apologetic tone.

“I’ll have some n’all, please, Marlon,” Faith pipes up, holding out her plate but Chas ignores her as she hands Aaron’s back and picks up Paddy’s instead.

“Right,” Marlon grits out. “I’ll just go get the batch we’ve been cooking for the customers then.” He hesitates like he wants to say something else, but settles for shaking his head and all but storms back to the kitchen.

“So, Matt,” Chas starts, drawing his attention away from where he’d watched Marlon leave. At Faith’s pointed cough, she throws a sharp, “Serve yourself,” before turning back to Matt. “How did you and my son meet?”

He’s visibly thrown, maybe from Marlon’s dramatics, maybe from Chas’s treatment of Faith or her possessive way of referring to Aaron, but doesn’t pause for long. “We met in a club in Hotten.”

“Love at first sight?” Faith teases as she piles up her plate.

“Maybe not love,” he quips back, which pleases her to no end. “But I bought him a drink,” he looks to Aaron, a small, almost secretive smile on his face. “And tried my luck.”

Aaron huffs, a crowded coffee shop and a confused barista coming to mind. “You could say that again.”

Marlon chooses that moment to waltz back in, a tray of individual chip baskets in hand, alongside a large bowl of greenery.

“Here are you chips,” he says bitingly as he places them beside each plate, nobody paying him much attention save Matt. “And I brought the salad in since I made it especially, but please feel free to ignore it.”

“Will do,” Faith replies with a self-satisfied grin as she pops a chip in her mouth.

“Thank you, um,” Matt starts, catching the chef’s attention. “Marlon, was it? It all looks and smells great.”

Marlon blinks down at him as if he’d just appeared out of thin air. “You’re welcome.” He takes another second to snap out of it, a wide grin blossoming as he wipes his hands on his apron and offers one to Matt. “I’m Marlon, Aaron’s cousin. His favourite, I’m sure he’s told you,” he snorts as he laughs at his own joke, Aaron giving him an unimpressed stare when he glances over Matt to look at him.

“Oh,” Matt glances around the table as he takes Marlon’s hand, a weirdly placed but unmistakable look of relief on his face. “Will you be joining us?”

“Pfft,” Marlon reels back as he drops his hand. “ _I_ was never invited. My slave-driver of a boss wouldn’t give me the time off anyway.” He knocks Chas’s shoulder with his hip, who pushes him back hard enough to make him stumble.

Matt laughs good-naturedly, and though it clearly makes Marlon feel invited to do his own prying, Chas shoos him away, reminding him Matty’s manning the bar on his own.

“Must be nice, though,” Matt offers as they all tuck in. “Having it be a bit of a family business.”

Chas wrinkles her nose, though Aaron knows that as irritating as Marlon and as flaky as Charity can be, deep down she loves working with them and having them nearby.

“It’s only right,” Paddy answers instead, humour colouring his voice. “The Dingles having been funding this place for years; long before any of ‘em worked here.”

The conversation continues lightly, mostly consisting of Chas and Faith asking Matt questions. He handles it with ease, and Aaron finds himself relaxing, comfortable with Matt taking the brunt of the conversation as he had last Sunday. Aaron joins in a bit more, as it’s his family this time, but he listens for the most part, not learning anything particularly new about Matt, but finding out little snippets that he wouldn’t have thought to ask about himself.

They’re finishing off their meal when the door to the stairs swings open and Charity strolls on through, a somewhat sheepish Vanessa following behind her.

“Oh,” Aaron can hear it, just from that first syllable, the trouble and embarrassment that’s coming their way in clacking heels and a gentle cloud of familiar sweet perfume. He closes his eyes and breathes out as he drags his hand down his face. “Is today the _family meal_? I’d completely forgotten.” Her faux-surprise isn’t fooling anyone and she knows it, flashing Vanessa a quick smile behind her.

“Really?” Chas drawls, putting her cutlery down carefully as she gives Charity an unimpressed look. “Even though I told you this morning, and told you to keep your distance?”

“Oh that,” she all but skips the last couple of steps, coming to stand where Marlon had, between Chas and Matt, and resting her hand on the back of his chair. “I thought that was because of the dodgy leak in the bathroom upstairs.” She points to the ceiling, letting out a huff of a fake, breathless laugh, and swinging her body round to face the table, and more pointedly Matt.

She zeros in on him, not even attempting to hide the way her eyes track up and down his body, and Aaron all but groans at the look that takes over her face.

“You must be the fire-fighting boyfriend.” She leans over him slightly to offer a deceptively dainty hand, a husky tone peppering her voice. “I’m Charity Dingle. Co-owner of this fine establishment, and-”

“Leaving.”

“This is Vanessa,” she ignores Aaron, releasing the trapping grip on Matt’s chair long enough to gesture to her. “My girlfriend.”

“Hi,” she offers quietly, looking more embarrassed than even Aaron feels, hunching into her coat as she gives a small wave. “I actually _didn’t_ know you were having a meal. So we’ll be leaving now-” she tries with a pointed look at Charity, but she’s already turned back at Matt.

“It would be rude to leave now we’ve just met, right?”

Matt wisely doesn’t try answering directly, but he does glance at Aaron quickly in askance, shooting Chas a similar look. “So you’re Aaron’s family, too?”

“Cousin,” Charity replies easily. “Well, more like highly esteemed aunt, isn’t that right, Aaron.”

“More like dead, if you don’t do one.”

Matt looks between them before Faith catches his attention. “There’s more Dingles round these fields than cattle, love,” she explains with a smirk.

“It’s ok now, though, isn’t it?” Paddy asks, earning perplexed looks from everyone. He shakes his head, briefly closing his eyes and waving his hand about. “The leak upstairs. I fixed it earlier.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Charity says, sounding very much like the opposite. “But you didn’t fix anything, Padster.”

“You’re kidding,” he looks to Vanessa, not entirely trusting Charity for the truth.

“It does look quite bad,” she winces, trying to be a bit more sympathetic with the news.

“Great,” he sighs, putting his fork down sharply and deflating even as he appears to gear up for some complaining.

“Paddy,” Chas snips, stopping him before he can start. “We don’t want to be hearing about leaking toilets while we’re eating.”

“Right,” he straightens up, looking to Matt opposite him. “Sorry. We’ve just been having trouble-“

“Paddy!”

“Matt might be able to help you,” Aaron chimes in, almost unthinkingly as he shoves the last of his food in his mouth. Paddy and his mum are looking at him with surprise, and Matt doesn’t look dissimilar when Aaron glances at him, but he doesn’t look against the idea either, so Aaron shrugs. “He’s pretty good at that sort of thing.”

Charity smirks at him, leaning into Matt’s chair more. “Fixed your pipes, did he Aaron?”

“Charity!” Vanessa hisses.

“C’mon, babe. At least I didn’t mention anything about poles.”

Matt huffs and looks up at her. “You’d be hard pushed to come up with something I haven’t heard a hundred times.”

Her smirk widens, “Sounds like a challenge.”

“Feel free to take it as one.”

“Oh-ho, I like you-”

“Yes, thank you, Charity.” Chas butts in, pushing Charity away as she continues to stare at Matt.

“You’ll come round to the bar though, yeah?” She asks as she stumbles towards the door. “Have a drink before you leave?”

“Let them finish their tea first,” Vanessa admonishes, saving Matt from answering and everyone’s wellbeing as she takes Charity’s arm and drags her from the room, throwing a quick smile and an apology to them all before finally escaping.

There’s a beat of dead silence after they’ve left, before Matt clears his throat. “I don’t mind helping out,” he offers, expanding when half the table looks back at him questioningly. “With the leak. If I can.”

Whatever Paddy opens his mouth to say, it’s lost to Chas waving Matt off. “Don’t be daft. We’re not going to ask you to do something like that. Especially not when we asked you round to meet you.”

Matt looks to protest, but Paddy speaks before he can. “We’ll call someone in tomorrow,” he says with a smile, though Aaron’s not convinced that was what he wanted to say first time round.

When they do make it round to the bar a little while later - those extra minutes filled with Chas leaning her chin on her hand as she fished Matt for more, throwing Aaron knowing looks and little smirks – they find Charity’s already kept a couple of tables clear at the front, maybe presumptuous, maybe following a pre-determined plan Chas had set out, Aaron’s not sure.

But Matt takes it in his stride, promising to stay for one as he glances at Aaron for any sign of disapproval.

He shrugs back and orders a pint.

They’re just sitting down, Marlon joining them and preening at Matt’s compliments, looking embarrassingly eager at what he has to say about the salad – being the only one who had tried it, despite Aaron’s assurance that he didn’t have to – when Cain walks in, and Aaron leans toward this being more of his mum’s plan than Charity’s.

He slouches in his seat, some instinctual habit to not draw attention to himself, but it’s redundant as Cain sets his sights on him as soon as he steps in, his sharp gaze immediately sliding to Matt – the stranger – sitting beside him.

And that’s where it stays as he orders a pint from Charity, leaning his elbow against the bar. Naturally she can’t help whispering God knows what in his ear, but nothing changes in his face as he takes a long drag from his fresh pint and keeps staring.

“Um,” Matt says quietly next to him, and Aaron snaps out of his concentrated stillness to look at him. He’s placing his glass down like he’d been drinking, and being face to face, Aaron can see his eyes flicker in Cain’s direction, though he’s not sure his uncle could from that distance. Matt’s body seems relaxed, but there’s a nervousness when he meet’s Aaron’s eyes and tries to mask his question under the rest of the table’s conversation. “You know that guy? I’m assuming he’s family, but...”

“My uncle. Cain.”

For some reason, that visibly relaxes Matt, like it doesn’t with anyone’s who’s ever heard of Cain Dingle before. “The one with the garage?”

Aaron’s eyes widen a little, surprised Matt had remembered, but that’s when Cain decides to make his move, stepping up to the table, next to Aaron, and takes an unnecessary long pull from his drink as he continues to watch Matt.

Staccato movement in his peripheral catches Aaron’s eye; the way his mum shifts and frowns up at Cain makes him think this probably wasn’t planned at all.

“So you’re the new boyfriend,” Cain eventually says, casually sizing Matt up and ignoring the pointed looks from the rest of the table.

“Yeah,” Aaron can’t fault Matt for his lack of fight or flight response that Cain’s trying to provoke, but he does wince as he holds out his hand. “Matt.”

Cain sniffs, scraping a chair over and not paying a blind bit of notice to Matt’s hand hesitating and wilting away to its place back under the table. He puts his pint down, his arm leant across the back of his own chair, legs spread wide as he settles facing towards Aaron slightly. “Liv’s on her way over, by the way.”

Aaron sits up straighter. He’d invited her, of course, reiterating that it was completely her choice, but the last he’d heard she hadn’t fancied coming to tea, but might pop over; he’d sort of thought that was her way of saying _not in a million years_ as considerately as she could (not that it would have mattered to Aaron).

“She know we’re still here?” He can’t help asking, briefly glancing at Matt. Whether he’s picking up on Aaron’s posture or is more nervous about Liv in general, something has him more alert, pulling his strings tighter where Cain’s posturing hadn’t.

He nods, sipping from his glass, licking the residue foam from his lips and taking his sweet time for no discernible reason. “She’s got Gabby in tow.”

The pub door swings open, Gabby indeed behind her as Liv steps in. There’s a small smile on her face as she’s still slightly turned to Gabby, who’s chatting into her ear with a smile Aaron’s finally warmed to.

It’s Gabby that spots them first, her expression not changing as she meets Aaron’s eye and places a hand on Liv’s shoulder. He’s mildly surprised that his sister doesn’t hesitate, striding straight over to them, hands in her pockets and shoulders relaxed. She clocks Matt, Aaron sees that, but she keeps her eyes on him mostly as she approaches.

“Alright?” she asks casually, standing beside him and not giving Cain a blind bit of notice.

“Yeah, good.” He shifts in his seat. “You?”

“Yep,” she nods. When a moment of silence passes, she twitches a frown at him, pointed stare darting sideways. Aaron frowns back before he realises.

“Oh, yeah. Liv,” he coughs, shifting in his seat so he’s not turned away from either of them. “This is Matt. Matt, this is my sister Liv. And her friend, Gabby.”

“Hi,” she offers in a quietly firm way, finally looking at him properly, Gabby giving a small wave over her shoulder.

“Nice to meet you,” he nods to both of them, though directs a smile to Liv. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Both Aaron and Liv scrunch their nose at that, and Matt laughs softly, a twinkle in his eye when Aaron turns to him.

“You joining us, love?” Chas asks, leaning over the table and trying a little too hard.

Liv shrugs, “Yeah, if you’ve got space.”

The whole table immediately starts looking for chairs, but Cain seems to be a step ahead, pulling a chair over and slotting it next to Liv, barely lifting from his own seat to do so.

“You can sit here, Gabby,” Marlon offers, raising to his feet and towering over everyone. “Should probably get back to work anyway,” he rolls his eyes dramatically, prompting teasing pokes from Chas as he passes behind her chair.

Gabby’s quick to take his seat the other side of Matt, and slots effortlessly into conversation, telling everyone about her and Liv’s day, what they did in town. Matt takes the opportunity she graciously gives him, taking the snippets Gabby offers and using them to ask Liv further questions. It’s a safe, easy way to talk directly to someone you know nothing about, and Aaron marvels at it. He watches Gabby as she giggles and adds to what Liv said, making both her and Matt laugh, and wonders how many times Adam has done the same thing for him.

The conversation flows that way for a while, everyone chiming in, Liv trying her best and Cain not trying at all, though there’s something to be said for the way his grumpy remarks make Faith hit his arm and bring a familial feeling to the table.

“I suppose Cain’ll be doing all his shopping on Christmas Eve,” Paddy nods to him with a joking smile. “Just like every other bloke.”

Chas snorts, giving him a pointed look. “You’re one to talk.”

“I’ll have you know,” Paddy starts in mock affliction, and Aaron rolls his eyes, tuning out as they start to flirt in their weird, gross, and specifically ‘Chas & Paddy’ way.

He turns away to see Matt still watching them with an amused and embarrassed smile, which he directs to Aaron when he knocks Matt’s knee with his.

“I’m just glad I managed to finally get my mum a present,” Gabby speaks up, seemingly unaware of Paddy and Chas’s teasing beside her. “Not that she necessarily deserves one.”

“Have you told her that you’re coming to ours yet?” Liv throws out casually as she takes a sip of her lemonade, like Aaron was aware that a decision had been made.

Gabby scoffs, “Yeah, no. I’m not telling her at all until I actually leave; I don’t need any more grief. She probably wouldn’t even notice I’m not there.” She looks to Aaron, sarcasm being replaced with something shier. “Thanks, for inviting me.”

Aaron shrugs, “You’re always welcome at ours.”

“What about you?” Liv asks, and Aaron turns to her to see looking at Matt sincerely. “Will you be coming over for Christmas?”

An icy dread shoots through Aaron’s spine because they hadn’t discussed this. It hadn’t even occurred to Aaron to get a story or plan in place; getting through these two meals being the main – only – focus.

It doesn’t help that that’s when the table suddenly comes together again, everyone looking at them for answers.

“I can’t, I’m afraid,” Matt is thankfully quicker to respond, looking suitably placating as he directs his answer to Liv. Aaron catches Chas frown from the corner of his eye, looking ready to pick a fight over what might be more important than her son. “I’ve got to work.”

The suspicious look melts away as she asks, “You have to work on Christmas Day?”

Matt nods. “Christmas Eve and Boxing Day, too.”

“That sucks,” Liv says, making Matt chuckle.

“Someone has to. And since I don’t have kids or a partner-” he cuts himself off, glancing at Aaron with a guilty looking smile. “Well, I _didn’t_ have a partner, so I always put myself up to work the Christmas shift.”

“That must be difficult,” Gabby offers.

He shrugs. “My first year was tough; I was on my own for the most part just staring at a bunch of grey walls and constantly wondering what my family was doing. But it’s been seven years now, and I’ve got a routine to cheer the place up and keep us entertained in the quiet moments. Besides, it’s always worth it, knowing the kids will get to be with their parents, and the guys are always grateful.” He shrugs again, adding with a cheeky smile, “Reckon I’ve bagged myself a fair few favours for when I have my own family.”

Chas immediately jumps in, “So you want kids, then?”

“Mum!”

“What?” She asks him with faux innocence, and she has no right trying to look affronted. “It’s a general question. He brought them up.” She elbows Faith as she sniggers beside her.

Aaron’s face burns and he hopes it doesn’t show as he groans, sinking into his chair. But Matt, calm and collected and used to facing absolute disasters, just chuckles. “I’ll take that as my cue to use the gents.”

The rest of the table start laughing about it too, Cain opting to throw a stray peanut at his sister instead. Aaron doesn’t find it so funny, side-eyeing Matt as he stands from the table, but all he does is smile back, placing his hand on Aaron’s shoulder and squeezing as he passes.

“I can’t believe you,” he hisses at his mum once the double doors close again.

“It’s not that bad of question,” she rolls her eyes. “You want to know sooner or later.”

“I told you, we’ve not been seeing each other long.” Something inside him is fuming, though he’s not sure why because Matt sure won’t give a flying fig what Chas has to say. Maybe it’s the same old annoyance of Chas never listening to him, or the fact that when Aaron really does find someone, it won’t be safe to introduce them until they’re flaming engaged or whatever.

“It is a bit much, Chas,” Paddy steps in. “First time you meet the parents.”

She waves an exacerbated hand towards Matt’s seat. “He obviously didn’t mind.”

But Paddy matches her, and though he doesn’t say it out loud, the look he gives her spells it out loud and clear: _But Aaron does._

“Even if it is just casual,” Liv pipes up beside him, and Aaron turns to meet her eyes. She shrugs. “Do you wanna be wasting your time on the kind of bloke that can be scared off by Chas?”

Liv is right, as she often is these days, but she’s also missing the point, which Aaron supposes answers his own question of why he’s so annoyed. Chas predictably agrees with her, missing the point by even further, but he offers Liv a small smile anyway because she’s trying and that means a lot.

Still, as Charity trots over to see what happened, Aaron thinks he could do with a bit of breather himself, and rises from the table, heading for the double doors.

“Where you going?” Paddy calls.

Aaron rests against the door as he answers over his shoulder, “To check he didn’t make a run for it.”

That’s when Matt pushes the other door open, startling them both as they come face to face. Before either of them can say a word, Faith calls to them excitedly.

“Look up, boys.” They do simultaneously, and Aaron hates his life. “Here’s your chance to kiss and make up.”

Matt’s head tilts back down to look at him with surprised confusion, “We were arguing?”

“No,” Aaron sighs and waves it off when Matt doesn’t look any less lost; they’ve got bigger problems to deal with than Faith’s stirring, mainly the little plastic sprig of mistletoe hanging above them, which is - frankly – a stupid place to put it.

“It is tradition,” Charity singsongs, and Aaron’s not a fan of how keenly they’re all watching them, even Cain.

He looks back to Matt, who shrugs as minutely as he can, and Aaron remembers ‘ _I’ll follow your lead’._ It doesn’t really help right now; Aaron would almost prefer it if Matt just grabbed him and kissed him so he didn’t have to decide for-

Well.

Maybe that’s the decision.

It would certainly help with his family; put a shoddy plaster on the last awkward conversation. Put to rest any doubts, though Aaron’s not sure his family really have any.

Matt’s green eyes watch him patiently.

Aaron will have had worse kisses, that’s for sure.

He places his hands on Matt’s arms lightly and steps into that millimetre of space between them, giving Matt the time to change his mind and pull away.

He doesn’t. He falls right into Aaron’s movement, placing his free hand on Aaron’s waist, sending a shock of heat up Aaron’s body as their lips touch.

It’s a sure, gentle kiss, neither feather light nor pressing. A real kiss that Aaron gets lost in for all of a millisecond, the drag of lips as they part a moment after they met a lingering feeling that tempts Aaron back in, but it’s an easy thing to ignore when his family whistle crudely and clap, prompting half the pub to do the same.

Aaron’s fingers twitch against Matt’s arms as he hangs his head and groans, Matt laughing loudly at both reactions, his hand still a steady weight on Aaron’s waist that he can’t stop being aware of.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes one hand away to wave his family off and try to get them to shut up. He turns to them, words on the tip of his tongue, when the sight of a shocked Victoria makes them disappear.

She blinks, then smiles at him shakily, trying to hide her surprise.

“Vic!” Chas greets her, spotting her from Aaron’s reaction no doubt.

“Hey,” she turns to Chas quickly, a cheer to her voice as she walks closer to their table. She glances around at everyone sat there, cuts a look back to Aaron where he still stands unmoving, and gives Chas something of an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I didn’t realise you had plans today.”

Matt’s hand squeezes gently against his waist and jolts him; when Aaron faces him, he looks a subtle mixture of confused and concerned, but Aaron just squeezes his arm back, barely even noticing the way his own hand trails down Matt’s arm as he steps away.

There’s a tingling when their hands brush, and a small instinct to grab his hand and hold it as they walk back to the table, but it’s gone in a second, and Aaron steps up to his seat, looking slightly warily at Vic, with Matt close behind him.

“You weren’t interrupting anything,” Chas waves off, seeming to play it down, but everyone sat at the table knows better. “We were just having a drink with Matt before he left.” She raises an eyebrow, faking sincerity as she asks, “Have you met Aaron’s boyfriend yet?”

In other circumstances, Aaron would have a go at her for that, but as it is, he’s not proud of how justified he feels at the thrown look on Vic’s face.

“Um,” she stutters, glancing in their direction, eyes darting between them. “No.” She shakes out of it, offering Matt a smile and a small wave because she’s polite and kind by default. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he nods back, but Chas snatches her attention away quickly.

“Did you need something? I thought you’d be staying well clear of Marlon on your day off.”

“Actually,” she’s still reeling a bit, Aaron can tell, but she covers it well. “I just wanted to ask about the rota for New Year’s Eve? Both Marlon and I are down, but since most of it will be prepared during the day, I wondered if you’d need us both to serve?”

“It is a buffet,” Charity mutters in support, shrugging as she looks to Chas.

“Yeah,” Chas nods. “Work it out with Marlon, but I don’t see why you can’t have the night off.”

Victoria opens her mouth as if to correct something, but she changes her mind, going for a small smile and a “thanks” instead, glancing at Aaron briefly.

Faith leans across the table to speak to Matt in a stage whisper, “We’re having a do in ‘ere, for New Year’s.”

“You should come,” Paddy pipes up, quickly tamping his enthusiasm down as he continues. “Unless you’re working...”

“No,” Matt hesitates, looking carefully to Aaron who’s still thinking too much about Vic’s reaction to be of much help. “I booked it off, actually.”

“Well, then,” Chas claps her hands together, sitting up in her chair. “That’s settled; you’ll come here.”

“Mum,” Aaron groans half-heartedly. “Maybe Matt already has plans? Maybe we _both_ have other plans?”

She scowls at him petulantly, “Well now you don’t.”

Matt chuckles as Aaron scowls back at her, knocking Aaron’s shoulder and offering him a smile. “Sounds like fun.”

Aaron huffs and sinks a little more comfortably in his chair, letting their arms stay lightly pressed together. “It doesn’t sound anything like it.”

Matt laughs again, and Aaron finds himself smiling a little, already resigned to the idea.

“I’ll, er,” Aaron’s head snaps to Vic again, having forgotten she was there. She’s looking at him oddly, but not unkindly, and gives him a genuine smile when their eyes meet. “I’ll talk to Marlon about it tomorrow.” She steps back, offering the whole table a wave. “Enjoy your drink.” She walks away to a chorus of goodbyes, only glancing back at him and Matt once before she leaves.

Chas is grinning from ear to ear when Aaron turns back to her, clearly pleased with herself and the news she’s sent Vic back with, and excited about Matt joining them for the party.

She leans across Paddy to tell him about it, Faith and Charity chiming in; Cain, Liv, and Aaron offering more sarcastic commentary. Their drinks dwindle away like that, talk of plans for Christmas week and plans gone awry from Christmases past. Chas isn’t subtle as she asks what Matt’s doing for Aaron’s birthday; he hides his surprise well, even looks genuinely sorry as he says he’s working again that day.

Aaron takes that as his cue to finish the dregs of his pint in one go, nudging Matt’s knee for him to do the same; Matt’s done his bit now. He’s free to go.

He catches on quick, though he doesn’t gulp the end of his coke in the same way, making it look natural as he slowly finishes it, puts it on the table and apologises.

“I better go.” Aaron expects his family – at least his mum – look disappointed or to put up a protest, but instead they’re amiable, his mum smiling at Matt like he hung the moon. “I’ve got a lot to finish up before I start the Christmas shift.”

“Of course,” Paddy stands as Matt does, holding his hand out to him again. “Thanks for coming round, especially when you’re so busy.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he says sincerely, glancing down to Gabby and offering her a quick goodbye before turning to Liv. Aaron watches from where he stands aside as Matt smiles softly at her, shoving his hands in his pockets, learning his lesson. She doesn’t bother standing, fiddling with her glass, but she’s meets his eyes as he says, “It was really nice to meet you, Liv. I hope you have a good Christmas.”

She nods. “You too. I’ll see you around.”

Something about that makes Matt smile wider as he nods back. When he steps behind her chair to say goodbye to the others – Cain surprising him by offering his hand – Liv gives Aaron a look, something knowing and soft, and smiles at him as she takes a drink.

The sound of Matt’s nervous laughter doesn’t give Aaron any time to react or think about what she means, and he turns to find Faith giving Matt a tight hug, his hands hovering uselessly above her shoulders.

“Put him down, Mum,” Chas admonishes, all but pushing her off him.

“Thanks again, Chas. It was lovely.”

He holds out his hand but she bats it away, stepping forward to hug him lightly, politely, something Matt’s plenty familiar with as he briefly and gently hugs her back. People do it all the time; friends, friends-of-friends, strangers when they first meet – a hug is as good as a handshake these days, and it’s not like his mum isn’t free with them, partial to squeezing the life out of the people closest to her. But something in Aaron’s gut twists in that moment; shock, annoyance, embarrassment – he’s not sure what, maybe even a mixture. All he knows – and he didn’t know he knew this until this very moment – is that Chas has never hugged one his partners before, not even Jackson back when she was overcompensating with enthusiasm.

There’s no reason why she should have, especially given the circumstances of his relationships in the village, and he’d probably be mortified if this was his real boyfriend, but the fact she’s opening her arms to someone Aaron doesn’t even know... it’s something. Aaron doesn’t know what, but it is _something_.

Aaron doesn’t know if Chas says anything else to Matt, only snapping out of it when Matt steps back from her and angles himself for door, Aaron coming up beside him and ready to follow. “I’ll show you out,” she says like it’s a given, ready to step forward and join them. Aaron rolls his eyes, but he’s tired of protesting, and heads for the exit, Matt on his heels.

“Chas, leave ‘em,” Paddy says quietly, and Aaron glances behind them to see he’s grabbed Chas’s arm. “They might wanna,” his gestures in front of him, “y’know...”

“What,” he hears his gran say as they step through the door. “Outside in December?”

The air is biting, and immediately they see their breath come out like puffs of smoke. Aaron breathes it in deep, the cold scraping through his nose and down his throat as he tries to ignore Faith’s lingering teasing.

He skips down the familiar steps as Matt struggles to pull his coat back on as he walks; Aaron’s feeling prickly again, but Matt seems unfazed by the whole thing.

“So,” he says quietly as he zips himself up, offering Aaron a cheeky, if slightly tired smile. “I think that went pretty well. Mission 2 accomplished.”

Aaron grunts in agreement as he nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Not what you expected though, eh?”

Matt laughs a little, “You got me there.” There’s a small pause. “It was fun, though.”

Aaron doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just nods again, watching his feet as they come up to Matt’s car.

“You ok?” He asks tentatively, and Aaron looks up at him in surprise. “Did I do something wrong, or-”

Aaron scoffs. “You did fine,” _perfect_ , actually, but that’s not the kind of word Aaron generally uses. “Mum’s probably going to be talking about you all Christmas.”

Matt smiles at that, makes a teasingly smug face as if to say, _Well, naturally_ ¸ and Aaron feels the corner of his lips twitch too.

But Matt’s got a stubborn streak, Aaron already knows, and he seems to have snagged on something. “That woman,” he starts lightly enough, pointing his thumb back to the pub. “Vic? She a friend? It’s just...”

He trails off and Aaron takes a while to catch on to what he’s saying, the phantom heat on his waist still tingling, remembering a questioning squeeze. Aaron supposes that did come off a bit weird to Matt, but he waves it off.

“Yeah. Well,” he looks at Vic’s house. “She was my sister-in-law too. I was just surprised to see her.”

He turns back to Matt to find him staring at him wide-eyed and standing a little a straighter, a shocked stillness about him that makes Aaron feel equally thrown.

“You were married?”

“Yeah,” Aaron replies hesitantly, half wondering if he should feel offended by Matt’s surprise. “Sort of. Not for very long, but...”

He leaves it there, not much more to say about it anymore.

“Huh,” Matt blinks away his lingering shock. “When you said _‘ex’_ , I just assumed you meant boyfriend.” He shrugs, giving Aaron a small, fairly pointless smile, but he doesn’t miss the way Matt glances towards the Mill, a little frown playing on his brow.

Aaron shifts and clears his throat. “So,” he starts, nodding to Matt’s car when he looks back to him.

“Right,” Matt chuckles hollowly once he catches on, digging in his pocket for his keys. He peers up at Aaron from under his eyelashes and Aaron quickly looks away, not aware he’d been staring. “So,” Matt starts once he’s freed his keys, and Aaron turns back to see him move to lean against his car, smile on his face. “I guess this’ll be the last time we see each other before Christmas...”

Aaron’s not sure why it matters, but he nods anyway, shuffling his feet.

“At least it’ll be a bit easier for us both,” Matt offers. “Now they won’t be trying to set us up with anyone.”

“True,” Aaron nods again, and finds he’s tempted to thank Matt like Matt had thanked him on Sunday, but he doesn’t. “Could still do with skipping it.”

Matt raises an eyebrow, a softly surprised look on his face. “Really?”

Aaron shrugs, scuffing his foot against the gritted ground. “I was dreading it before, with my mum. She won’t be as bad now, but, I dunno.” He glances back at the pub, frowning. “I’ll still be sitting there on my own, people giving me odd looks and scared to bring up the past year like it’s a bad thing.” He turns back to Matt, frown dissipating into a self-deprecating look. “I’m not even sure if it’ll be better or worse when Paddy and Mum drag me into third-wheeling all day.”

The corner of Matt’s lip curls up, but doesn’t displace his sympathetic look. “Depends what they’re doing, I suppose.”

Aaron huffs and shuffles, hands playing with the insides of his pockets. “Now that Gabby’s going to be with Liv, I might try to get out early and go with Plan A.”

“Which is?”

“Die Hard and junk food.”

Matt quirks his eyebrow. “Is that like, a joke that anything’s better than Christmas with your family, or do you actually want to watch that by choice?”

It’s Aaron’s turn to look surprised, almost reeling back as he frowns at him. “You don’t like Die Hard?”

Matt shrugs, “I’ve never seen it. But my mate and I tried watching the second film once-“

“ _Why_ would you watch Die Harder?”

Matt struggles to contain his smile at Aaron’s genuine consternation, shrugging again. “Coz it was on?”

“Well, forget everything about that,” Aaron tuts, shuffling his feet a little as he notices his reaction has garnered Matt’s attention in a particularly focused way. “But you should definitely watch the original; it’s the best Christmas film.” A dubious look sweeps over Matt’s face that Aaron is having none of. “You’ll like it, trust me. Everyone likes it.”

Matt smiles, eyes going softer and his lips ticking up slightly to one side. Aaron suddenly and unwillingly remembers the kiss. “I’ll bare that in mind.”

Aaron turns the corners of his mouth down and tilts his head a little, as if he to say he doesn’t care either way. He looks aside, back to the pub, tries to fool himself that he’s thinking about going back in and not about smiling lips and warm hands.

“So,” Matt clears his throat when Aaron doesn’t say anything. “I guess I’ll see you at New Year’s?”

Aaron turns back to him with a furrowed brow. “You don’t have to do that,” he dismisses, hands trying to gesture from their safe confinement in his pockets. “We agreed to tea; you didn’t sign up for that.”

“Yeah, coz turning up for free pub lunches is such a hardship,” he teases, then offers more sincerely, “I’d like to. I bet your family know how to through a party.”

Aaron scoffs, can’t help the smirk that plays on his lips. Still, he frowns a little as he asks, “Don’t you have plans?”

“Well,” he slides up his car to stand straighter. “I’ve really got to watch Die Hard at some point, but other than that...”

Aaron laughs and rolls his eyes. Matt looks pleased with himself, smirking as his eyes flit across Aaron’s face. There’s something easy about Matt; the way he’s quick to smile, how his lives his life, his slouch against his car, his company – it’s a messy, weird, pathetic situation they’ve put themselves in, but it’s working, and Aaron finds he really doesn’t mind it as much as he should.

“Guess it’ll be better with you there,” he offers, briefly biting the inside of his lip. “Less pressure, less pitying looks, and you can answer all the awkward questions since, technically, this is all your doing.”

Matt smirks, “That you _technically_ agreed to. And by technically, I mean outright and explicitly.” Aaron shrugs it off, but he can feel his lips twitching in amusement. A contemplative look crosses Matt’s face as he stands straight, but his smile doesn’t fade. “So I’ll come over New Year’s then?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nods, stepping away as it looks like Matt readies to leave. “I’ll text you when.”

“Cool,” Matt nods, and even to Aaron it looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The moment passes quickly though, and he turns to open the door, saying over his shoulder a he climbs in, “I’ll see you then.”

“Yep,” Aaron’s fingers fidget in his pocket as he watches Matt shut his door, immediately putting the window down as he buckles in. He opens his mouth to say something, peering up at Aaron though his window, but changes his mind, placing his restless hands on the steering wheel.

Aaron still takes a step up to his car though.

“Well,” Matt starts again, gentle smile in place. “I hope you have a good Christmas.”

Aaron huffs, digging his hands further into his pockets. “I wouldn’t count on it, but we’ll see.” He shrugs, offering his own small smile. “Hope yours is quiet.”

Matt chuckles. “Me, too.” He nods at Aaron as he starts the car and puts it into gear, Aaron pulling back to give him more space. “Bye,” he calls softly, only looking away from Aaron after he nods back.

He stands, the icy air really nipping at his face and neck now, watching Matt manoeuvre and drive slowly up the road, his hand coming out the window to wave back at Aaron. He gives a small wave in return, not sure if Matt will even see it in the mirror, and waits until his car has pulled onto the main road and disappeared before breathing deeply, the cold air scratching down his throat, and thinks about going back in.

~~~

They’re all talking excitedly about Matt when he ventures back in, the warmth of the pub almost painful on his cold skin, and don’t stop for a good hour after.

Liv’s second only to Aaron in her quietness, but she’s got a small smile and keeps casting Aaron looks that he’s not sure he even wants to decipher.

Chas loves him, as predicted, and as annoying as all this reaction is, Aaron can physically feel a weight missing from his shoulders, and knows that as stupid as the plan was, it was a success.

When he lays in bed that night, he lets the day wash over him, and thinks with renewed vigour that he can handle this. Whatever his family or the gossips of the village have to throw at him, he can handle it.

The closer he gets to sleep, the warmer the phantom of Matt’s hand feels on his waist, seeming to spread ever so slowly through him. He frowns at it, even as he falls further into unconsciousness, and wonders briefly and sleepily if his mum had been partially right about finding someone new. 

~~~~~

The days following, Chas doesn’t stop talking about Matt and throwing questions at Aaron that he responds to with appropriate curtness.

But he pops in for a pint every day, and gets his tea there once or twice.

~~~~~

Even though it’s essentially just a box, and couldn’t be simpler, Aaron still struggles to wrap the damn thing.

He curses as he fails to bite off a bit tape, tries again even as his lip smarts from the accidental catch. Finally succeeding, he tosses the roll aside and muddles with trying to get the last folded end in place without letting the tape get stuck on the rest of present as has happened several times for him this Christmas Eve.

He manages it this time, and gently slides the final product away from him slightly so he can look it over.

It doesn’t look great, messy and somehow bulging in places, but the Christmas paper will hold, and that will do. It’s not like it’s an important present anyway, just a stupid impulse buy as he waited in the hellishly long queue at Tesco, mentally wishing the hand of God would just strike him where he stood or get the 7 people in front of him instead.

It’s a dumb, probably overpriced idea when Matt can just download it or stream it for free in a million different places, but Aaron figures his family will expect him to have gotten him something, and it’s not like he’s got a whole heap of ideas.

He hopes Matt is about as technologically advanced as he is, and still has something that’ll play DVDs.

He glances up and looks at the rest of the presents he’s laid out under the tree. His own, wrapped tonight and last minute as always, seem to stand out in their shoddiness and lack of embellishment, though Liv’s not much better than him; he had tried to put a ribbon on his present for her, but it sits loose and wonky and not very curly.

He looks back down to the present in front of him and thinks about putting it under the tree with the rest, but it seems like a pointless thing to do when Matt isn’t even going to be there and Liv might mistake it for being hers.

He sighs and snatches it up from the table, taking it with him as he turns off the lights and heads as quietly as he can to bed.

~~~~~

Aaron leans back against the counter as he blows the steam from his coffee and looks at the clock wondering when Liv is going to get up.

Long, long gone are the days when Aaron would be too excited to sleep and come bounding down the stairs barely past 6 on Christmas mornings, Chas cursing all the way behind him.

But Liv still has a sense of childness about her and has been wildly different in her wake-up times the Christmases since she came to live with him – ranging from trying to lure him from sleep by cooking breakfast at 7am to having to be dragged out of bed so they wouldn’t miss lunch.

It’s twenty past 8 – Aaron dressed and ready, if not fully awake – and she remains quiet upstairs.

His mind drifts to the rest of his family; Marlon would have been up for hours by now he knows, April and Leo being an unstoppable force together. Cain might have too, which is still a wild thought, even after all this time.

His phone buzzes, and Aaron reaches for it lazily, assuming it’ll be one of the brood sending the standard ‘Merry Christmas’ text.

He raises an eyebrow as he sees it’s from Matt.

They’ve texted a couple of times in the days since he came round, but nothing much and Aaron certainly didn’t expect to hear from him today.

> _You up?_

Aaron frowns, and carefully places his coffee on the counter before he replies.

< _Yeah_

It takes a moment for Matt to reply, three little dots appearing once, then twice.

> _Like up up?_

His frown deepens, confused and mildly annoyed.

> _yes_

Matt doesn’t reply immediately, and Aaron’s fingers pick at the edges of his phone as he waits. The doorbell goes before Matt replies, and Aaron sighs as he goes to answer it, already thinking of sending another text to hurry him up.

He welcomes Paddy in half-heartedly – it’s been years since Chas has done anything other than waltz straight in whenever she feels like it – by opening the door wide for him, but stops in his tracks when he sees Matt standing there instead.

“Hey,” Matt almost whispers, a sheepish smile on his face. Aaron blinks at him, involuntarily looking him up and down in an attempt to work out why he’s here, standing in jeans with his shoulders hunched inside a very worn jacket. Instead of finding answers, he’s asked a quiet question; “Is Liv around?”

“No?” he answers perplexed, scowling. He shakes his head and blinks slowly as he asks, “What are you doing here? I thought you were working.”

“I was.” He shuffles, moving to lean against the door jamb as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets, shoulders coming forwarding and hunching even more. “But I called in one of those favours.” He’s still talking quietly, smile still in place but looking more and more uncertain. “I wondered if me coming today would make things easier for you. Better. It seemed like you were dreading it, so...”

Aaron, still feeling half a mile behind what’s happening, twitches his eyebrow and hand to get Matt to continue.

He looks as if he shrugs, though his shoulders are too tense to make much movement. “If things were the other way around-”

“I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

“No,” Matt laughs in agreement. “But I’d want you to.” Something in his face softens, smile turning more natural. “And I thought, well, this guy really saved my hide once when he didn’t have to.”

“You bought me coffee for that,” Aaron’s quick to fire back, but frowns and realises how flimsy that sounds – and actually was at the time – when Matt laughs again.

“Well, you can do one better and make me one if makes you feel better.” He shrugs, smile slipping to the side. “It’s not like taking Christmas off doesn’t come with perks for me too.”

“But-”

“We don’t have to,” Matt insists gently. “But I thought I’d let you know I’ve sorted it if you wanted to.”

Aaron sighs, leaning heavily against the door. “And you couldn’t have called or texted to let me know instead?”

Matt shrugs again, a twinkle in his eye even as his smile turns self-deprecating. “It was something of a last minute decision on my part.”

Aaron huffs, and it’s still too early for him to curb the way he looks at Matt; sizing him up and not hiding how ridiculous he finds him, perhaps some mild endearment slipping through, too.

Matt clears his throat, shuffles his feet. “If it’s a bad idea...”

It’s a dumb idea, is what Aaron wants to say. It’s a dumb idea, done dumbly, in a dumb scheme to get their stupid families off their backs.

But he’s here now, and Aaron knows it will help having him around, if only for the fact it means he doesn’t have to play gooseberry to his mum and Paddy anymore. No pitying looks, no overcompensating, no more fear of people taking the chance to meddle.

Aaron sighs, feeling no less confused, but... _better_ , is the most fitting word he has for it _._ Still, never one to _not_ look a gift horse in mouth after the amount of times he’s been bitten, he finds himself asking, “Don’t you want to spend today with your family? Now you’ve taken if off?”

Once again, Matt’s shoulders raise and fall in a jerky movement, a hint of guilt crossing his face; it looks old, and Aaron’s familiar with the difference between a guilt you put on yourself and a guilt that’s put upon you by others. “I would be happy to, obviously, but if it meant that much to me, I would have booked it off for them before, y’know? And besides,” he smiles in that certain way again, the way that looks both shy and cheeky. “They’d be beside themselves if they found out I spent Christmas with you.” His hand frees itself to clench by his chest as he looks heavenward, “So many brownie points.”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he steps aside to open the door wider. “You better come in then.”

“Well,” he says quickly, stopping Aaron in his tracks. “Will Liv mind?” He asks quietly. “I suddenly thought as I got out the car that she might not be thrilled about it. I don’t want to ruin her day when I’m trying to make yours-”

Aaron waves him off, “She practically invited you the other day.” He turns and walks back into the room, leaving it up to Matt if he follows or not. “She’ll probably be relieved that she doesn’t feel like she has to stick beside me all day.” The door closes quietly behind him as he continues into the kitchen, so he looks over his shoulder to ask, “Coffee, was it?”

Matt grins at him, and Aaron turns away to smile, flicking the kettle on as Matt says, “Strong as you can make it.”

There’s something in the way he says it that piques Aaron’s interest. He settles back in the position he was in before, picking up his own cooled coffee, and watches Matt look around the room with wide eyes.

“What time did you finish?” Aaron asks as he takes a sip, grimacing at the taste. He puts the mug down, noticing Matt’s acquired a plastic bag from somewhere, rustling slightly as it hangs from his wrist.

“Well,” Matt starts as he heads over to Aaron. “According to the giant clock on the wall,” Aaron rolls his eyes, but otherwise ignores the teasing; he’s working on the redecorating. “It’s been about half an hour.”

Aaron’s eyebrows shoot up, “You came straight from work?”

“Well, yeah,” Matt frowns like that would be obvious. “I’m only taking today off. And I’ll go in early tomorrow; finish Tammy’s shift so she can get back before the kids get up, maybe even get a bit of kip, too.”

“Bet she was pleased about switching shifts last minute,” Aaron says as he pulls down a mug for Matt who chuckles quietly.

“Actually, they all said they’d be happy to,” Aaron raises an eyebrow at him as he dumps a generously heaped teaspoon of coffee in the cup, Matt looking a little self-conscious as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Like I thought, working the bum shifts for so long has stacked me a lot of favours. But even I’m surprised how eager everyone was to switch out.”

Aaron hums noncommittally as the kettle clicks and he pours, “Maybe they’ve got overbearing families too.”

Matt chuffs, “Or they secretly think I need to get a life too.”

“Did you tell them-”

“No,” Matt scoffs, leaning back against the counter as Aaron had. “I said a mate asked me round to help out.” He shrugs as he watches Aaron stir. “They didn’t ask for specifics.”

Aaron shrugs his mouth as he passes the mug over, setting to make a fresh one for himself as Matt thanks him and takes a grateful sip. It’s quiet for a moment, only a moment, but part of Aaron marvels at the fact it’s comfortable considering, well, everything.

Matt’s the one to break it, shifting to place his cup on the counter and lift his bag up. “I got you something, by the way.” Aaron watches, surprised, as Matt rummages and pulls out a flat, neatly wrapped present and hands it over. “Thought it would look weird if I came over without anything. Well, I was gonna give it to you anyway, but-”

“Thanks,” Aaron says quietly, gingerly taking the present, not quite sure how to react.

“It’s not,” Matt obviously feels pressed to say, recently freed hand waving around. “It’s not like, a proper present, but I thought it would do the job.” Aaron looks at him bemused, even as he feels the corner of his mouth tick up, but Matt’s delving back into the bag. “And I bought Liv some chocolate,” he shrugs as he pulls another red present out. “I don’t know if she’ll like it...”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says looking at Liv’s gift, even though Matt didn’t have to do _any_ of this.

Matt shrugs again, frowning a little at himself. “It seemed rude to turn up without something for her, too.”

“She’ll like it,” Aaron offers, because although she’s never been too fond of the way sweets stick to her teeth, he’s never known her to shy away from chocolate.

Matt smiles, and gestures to the tree, to which Aaron nods and watches him go over to place it amongst the other presents.

There’s a flutter in his stomach, warm and brief, but Aaron ignores it, flipping his present over in his hand, rubbing his thumb along the paper to try and guess what it is.

“You, er,” he looks up to see Matt watching him, smiling in a way that’s both amused and nervous; his green eyes flick from Aaron’s to the gift and back. “You might want to open that before anyone else turns up.”

Aaron quirks an eyebrow as he watches Matt come back over, leaning his hip against the counter to face Aaron, but standing a little further away than before.

“Is it going to explode or something?” Aaron asks half-heartedly, placing his mug down.

Matt doesn’t say anything, but Aaron doesn’t miss the way he bites his lip as he starts tearing at the paper.

Confusion is what strikes Aaron first, but when he realises, he laughs, half in shock. “Are you kidding?”

Matt chuckles as Aaron stares at the calendar in disbelief, what Aaron assumes to be Matt’s team standing in front of a fire truck, all shirtless or near to it.

“We did it a while ago,” Matt says, teasing and smug and clearly pleased with himself. “Otherwise I would’ve made sure I was January, for your birthday.”

Aaron scoffs and looks at him; there’s a twinkle in his eyes and he’s still biting his lip as he smirks.

“What are you then?” He asks disinterestedly as he flips it over.

“Mr July,” he says proudly, moving to stand closer.

Aaron spots his little teaser picture fairly easily; he’s standing wide, his arms hooked over an axe that’s resting on his shoulders, his uniform suspenders dangling by his thighs and his jacket tied at the waist showing off his abs and chest, sprayed with something to make him look sweaty-

A pulse goes through Aaron, sudden and strong, and he quickly averts his eyes to the other pictures. He swallows, refuses to acknowledge his reaction or the embarrassment that claws at him now.

He hums and says teasingly, “November’s not bad.”

Matt laughs and knocks his shoulder with his, and Aaron bites on his own smile as he sways a little.

He expects Matt to play it up, pretend to be the wounded boyfriend, but when he doesn’t say anything at all, Aaron looks him in the eye and says with all sincerity, “This might be the most conceited presented I’ve ever been given.”

Matt smirks and shrugs. “Never said I wasn’t.”

Aaron huffs a laugh, spinning the calendar between his fingers. “Some fake-boyfriend you are, giving me your free, left over stock.”

“Excuse me,” Matt says with pretend offense. “It’s for charity; of course I bought it.”

Aaron turns to him again, raising an eyebrow. “You bought your _own_ shirtless calendar?”

“Well,” Matt chuckles. “When you put it like that, it does sound bad.” Aaron shakes his head, smiling, looking back down at the calendar between his hands. Matt lightly knocks him with his elbow. “It made you smile though, so I’d call it a success.”

Aaron looks back at him at that; it’s a cheesy line, but there’s a softness to the way he’s looking at Aaron, an honesty to his smile, that catches Aaron off guard in the gentlest way possible.

He opens his mouth to reply, but there’s a thump by the top of the stairs that startles them both, and he turns to see Liv’s pyjama clad legs make their way down heavily and sleepily.

“Have you started breakfast?” she asks, rubbing at her eye, but stops in her tracks halfway down when she see Matt standing beside Aaron. “Oh.”

“Hi,” Matt offers with a small wave before Aaron can say anything.

Liv frowns lightly, tucking herself a little more tightly into the oversized jumper she’d slept in. “I thought you were working today?”

Aaron sees Matt bite his lip as he tries not to smile. “I was. But I managed to shift things around so I could surprise him,” he says, tilting his head towards Aaron and elbowing him for good measure.

He’s tempted to push him back, but Liv is already watching them with her eyebrows raised. “Are you staying?” She asks, directing her attention more solely on Matt.

He shrugs, shifts, looks at her earnestly. “If you’re ok with that?”

She’s nodding before she’s even fully looked back at Aaron, but when she does, a tiny smile appears on her face. “Yeah,” she adds unnecessarily as she makes her way down the rest of the stairs. As she heads over to them, she nods towards Aaron’s hands. “What’s that?”

~~~

“She’s a lot like you,” Matt whispers beside him as they both stand leaning on the back of the couch, watching Liv open her presents from Chas and Paddy.

They’d arrived just after breakfast, Chas bursting through the door as expected, laden with present bags and loud festive greeting stopped abruptly as she spotted Matt over Aaron’s shoulder, putting their plates in the sink.

She’d turned her wide eyes to him, iridescent with mischief and the kind of thoughts he didn’t want his mother having about him, before dropping the bags and waltzing over to Matt with a happy, if teasing tone.

And Paddy hadn’t been much better. He may have even been a bit worse.

They sit cuddled up on the couch now, watching Liv too as she tears through the paper, Gabby – who’d been far more subtle in her surprise when she’d arrived – sitting beside her and offering up silly guesses

Aaron huffs and replies quietly, “I wouldn’t say that to her face.”

Their shoulders are pressed together so Aaron feels it when Matt shrugs.

Liv has already opened her present from Matt; he offered it to her as they all gravitated towards the tree, before Gabby had shown up. She’d been too surprised to look at him with any suspicion as Matt had handed it to her. Her genuine shock – that had lasted even after she ripped it open to reveal a standard box of chocolates – had Matt looking as uncomfortable as he did the first time Aaron met him.

He’d turned to Aaron with an almost assessing look of confusion, but Aaron didn’t have the inclination nor the words to explain that Liv wasn’t used to that kind of natural, thoughtless generosity, that she used to look at Aaron that way too and he was sometimes just as confused by his own giving behaviour in those early days.

The next present Liv picks up is green, and it reminds Aaron of the one he has sitting on his bedside table. He ignores the inexplicable little shiver of nerves that run down his body, and whispers to Matt, “I’ll be back in a minute,” before pushing himself away from the sofa.

It’s only when he’s on the landing he realises he’s left Matt alone with his family.

He snatches the present quickly and tries to not look like he’s running down stairs, but when he comes back, no one’s moved or turned their attention to Matt, and they’re all laughing at something Gabby said.

He lets out a silent breath of relief and stands beside Matt, holding the gift out. “Here.”

Matt still has the hint of a smile on his lips when he turns lazily to see the present that’s basically shoved in his face, but when he registers what it is, his wide eyes snap up to Aaron’s.

Aaron just shakes it at him.

He stands up straight, taking the gift gently from Aaron and frowning at it lightly. Aaron shoves his hands in his pockets and tries not to fidget when Matt turns that look on him.

“But you didn’t know I was coming...” he says softly, almost questioningly. Aaron cuts a look to the others, but they’re all engrossed in Liv’s present, Chas and Paddy leaning forward to explain something to her.

He shrugs and shifts his weight as he meets Matt’s eyes again. “Seemed like the sensible thing to do,” he says under his breath, with a quick nod in his family’s direction. He swallows as Matt looks back down at the present, his finger running across the shoddily taped seem, and feels compelled to add, “It’s nothing. Something stupid.”

Matt raises an eyebrow and looks at him from under his eyelashes, little smirk appearing as he asks, “Something stupid like mine?” with put on, flirtatious hopefulness.

Aaron scoffs and leans his hip against the couch. “Nothing’s as stupid as yours.” Matt chuckles and peels off the paper with ease. Aaron doesn’t know why he’s feeling nervous again, why there’s little butterflies in his stomach that he’s pretty sure he hasn’t felt since he was 21. But they don’t last long as Matt quickly opens the present and laughs as he sees the cover, looking nothing but happy and amused as he meets Aaron’s eyes again.

“What’s this?” Chas preens, leaning back and looking over the back of the couch. Aaron looks up from her to see Matt’s caught everyone’s attention.

He takes it in his stride, as usual.

“Aaron’s present for me,” he says as he holds the DVD up for everyone to see.

“Die Hard?” Chas scrunches her nose as she looks at Aaron, either thinking he should’ve done better or wondering if she’s missing something.

“It’s a good film, that,” Paddy states as he nods, peering up at Matt, who offers in return;

“I’ve never seen it.”

“You haven’t?” He asks almost scandalised, and Chas looks between them as Aaron mutters ‘ _exactly’_.

“I’ve got no excuse now,” Matt says with a smile, looking to Aaron again and knocking him with his hip.

“What’d you get Aaron?” Chas asks, a mildly sceptical frown still in place. Aaron’s ready to brush her off, but Liv beats him to it, making Chas cackle. She looks back at Aaron before turning to Matt with a wink, “Let’s have a look then.”

Aaron grumbles about them needing to get to Uncle Zac’s before they miss lunch, and throws out a comment into the ensuing hubbub about needing a jacket, taking the opportunity to hide the calendar in his room.

~~~

The frost in heavier up here, still clinging to the fences and to seemingly every pebble of the gravel, making it move differently and sound peculiar as they trudge up the driveway, but it’s hardly noticeable over the noise coming from the cottage.

They’re the last ones to arrive, then.

Aaron looks over to Matt to see he’s still looking around, eyes never straying from the pig pen for too long, mind.

Matt catches him watching and trots over to walk beside him, Aaron slowing his steps so they drop a little behind the others.

“Not used to country life?” He asks sarcastically, hunching into his jacket more as a gentle but bitter wind sails through.

Matt scoffs, “Coz Hotten’s a raging metropolitan.” He looks back at the pigs, snorting and scuffing and squelching as much as ever. “Just wasn’t expecting a farm, is all.”

He looks like he intends to say something else, but the cottage door bursting open surprises them all, Sam tumbling out in a whirlwind of gangly limbs and small feathers.

“Get back ‘ere, you.” For all of a second it’s unclear what Sam is talking about before there’s a squawk and a flash of colour, all of them jumping aside as a pheasant runs at them, Sam lolloping close behind, his feet stuck in a tangle as he struggles with his half-on wellies.

“What-” Chas begins to ask, and Aaron turns to see her addressing Lydia, who stands in the doorway holding her red cardigan across herself, a resigned look on her face and a put-upon sigh falling from her lips.

“Don’t ask,” she says softly before jogging about as gracefully as Sam had as she calls his name.

“Welcome to the mad house,” Gabby mumbles to Matt, and Aaron can’t argue with that.

Uncle Zac isn’t actually here this year, but they aren’t lacking for Dingles. The noise of cheers and the inevitable argument in the background is almost as much of a physical struggle as trying to get all of them through the door, and Aaron puts his hand on Matt’s back to steer him better, grimacing a smile as everyone tries to greet him at once.

Nobody even notices Matt initially, so used to their own hoard and the inevitable crowding, but naturally it’s Faith that sniffs him out first, her scent for fresh blood as sharp as a shark’s.

“Matthew!” She sing-songs, pushing poor Samson out the way as she heads straight for them, a glint in her eye as she looks from him to Aaron; his shoulders tense as he braces himself. “What a wonderful surprise! Aaron never said you were coming.”

Matt glances back at him, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, it was a surprise for him too, I-”

“Oh-ho,” she grins, interrupting and sidling up to Aaron to nudge him not so gently in the ribs. “Handsome and romantic; you’re gonna want to keep a hold of him, love.”

“It wasn’t-” Matt starts to say, looking a little flustered, as Aaron begins to voice his own directionless denial, but Liv speaking up amongst the general noise of the room catches their attention.

“Please tell me that wasn’t dinner flying out the door,” she jerks her thumb over her shoulder.

Marlon snorts derisively. “Of course not,” there’s an offended note to his voice as he places a bowl down on the long table stretching awkwardly across the width of the room. Aaron tries not to roll his eyes at the fact he’s dressed in his chef whites, again. “Sam caught it for me to make Lisa’s Game Pie tomorrow,” his voice tapers off at the end, indignation and exasperation dropping off as he glances at Belle, who stands in the middle of everything, arms crossed over her waist and a slightly strained smile on her face.

Charity steps in, apparently done will whatever bickering her and Cain had been occupied with. “Turns out it wasn’t as dead as he thought it was,” she jokes, her own sharp eyes cutting over to Aaron and Matt even as she’s preoccupied with Belle.

“Was it hurt?” Matt asks worriedly, and if people weren’t already sizing him up after Faith’s outburst, they are now.

“It seemed fine,” Vanessa waves it off, but not unkindly, smiling up at Matt from where she sits nearby. “Sam probably just stunned it. The lack of blood probably should’ve clued him in...”

“But Sammy’s not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Charity can’t help finishing, smirking as she approaches them, sights set on Matt when she isn’t checking she’s got Belle in tow. “Hello again,” she flirts shamelessly, throwing Aaron looks he could do without. “Fancy seeing you here. Aaron must have been a _very_ good boy this year.”

Aaron groans, bowing his head to pinch at the bridge of his nose. She completely ignores him, barely pausing for breath.

“Have you met our Belle? It’s her birthday today.” She brings her forward, turning to her to ask, “Did you know Matt is a fireman?”

Belle laughs softly, taking Matt’s hand as she says, “You’ve only mentioned it about twenty times.”

Aaron tunes out as they exchange pleasantries and Matt wishes her a happy birthday; she looks ok, smiling genuinely and not looking for an exit, but Aaron knows the reason Sam’s currently chasing a bird around the yard, for Charity’s hovering and why they’re all cramming into this already cramped cottage, is that Belle’s been missing her parents terribly, and that this is her first birthday without at least one of them.

Sam’s been banging on for weeks about how he wants to make this year extra special for her, and it looks like the whole family have done the best they can.

He comes in at that moment, looking crestfallen and angry with himself, Lydia pulling him in by the elbow and looking like she’s saying encouraging things to him quietly.

Belle’s quicker off the mark than anyone’s teasing, walking over to him with that indulgent smile of hers. “Don’t worry about it, Sam.”

“But we wanted t’make your pie,” he’s quick to argue, glancing to Lydia with eyes as sad as Monty’s have ever been. “Make it special, like. We’ve had it every year since you were a little’un.”

“So we’ll just have it another time,” she insists softly. “It’s not like we haven’t got enough food to get through today,” she swings her arm behind her at the table. “And Marlon will be making his turkey curry with the leftovers, which I love.”

Marlon’s chest puffs out a little at the praise.

“It is a good curry,” Aaron mumbles to Matt distractedly, keeping his eyes on Belle.

“This is special enough, Sam. Really.”

Aaron thinks she may be lying, with the way her shoulders sag, but she doesn’t look unhappy either, and Sam takes her at face value, glancing at Lydia for some kind of confirmation, before throwing his shoulders back and grinning at Belle.

“Well, it’s not even started yet,” he says excitedly, moving to her quickly and wrapping a heavy handed arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a rough side hug that she leans into with a patient smile. “‘Bout time you started carving, ey Cain?” He shouts over her head, getting a nod from Cain and a series of indignant squawking from Marlon as he complains about not being the one to carve the turkey he’d slaved over.

“Everyone take a seat,” Lydia hollers, suitably ignoring Marlon, and everyone lumbers their way over in a mass of noise and elbows.

Aaron has to nudge Matt into moving, and when he look at his face, he looks overwhelmed - not dissimilar to how Liv had looked when Matt had handed her his present – eyes wide and flicking from one person to the next.

“C’mon,” he lightly grabs Matt’s sleeve and guides him over to where Liv and Gabby had wisely been quick to take their seats at the already leaden table; the table being a mishmash of surfaces, only partly covered by an actual tablecloth and the rest making do with old sheets.

He takes a seat next to Liv, pleased to see Paddy flustering his way over to sit on Matt’s other side, and he doesn’t think he’s the only one to let out a breath of relief when he succeeds.

He can’t blame Matt; Aaron had hated coming here as a kid and even more so as a teenager – too many people, too much noise, too much _stuff_ , and not enough attention. Everyone expecting you to slot into place like the well-oiled engine of the clapped out van, defying all mechanics by still working.

It’s a far cry from the quiet, neat lunches of Matt’s grandparents.

“Beer, boys?” Faith calls as she leans across the table - and half over Chas - offering a tin to each of them.

Aaron doesn’t hesitate to take his, cracking it open within the next second, but Matt shifts and sounds apologetic, “Better not, I’ll be driving later.”

“You’re not staying over?” Chas asks surprised and perplexed, Faith equally as shocked as she asks, “You’re not drinking at Christmas?”

Chas gives Aaron a sharp look, and he supposes it is weird, to have his boyfriend surprise him on Christmas morning and not stay the night.

“Well, I’ve got work,” Matt hedges, his knee knocking into Aaron’s as he shifts uncomfortably under the matching, dubious stares of his mum and gran.

Aaron can see the cogs turning in Chas’s mind, and feels an icy dread at finding out what they’ll come up with.

“You can stay,” he says as quickly yet casually as he can manage, taking a sip from his own can.

Matt turns to him, visibly trying to not look surprised, his eyebrows doing something complicated even as he keeps flitting glances back to Faith who still hovers almost threateningly with the beer in hand.

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking like he doesn’t understand his own question.

“Of course,” Aaron replies flippantly, and gently knocks their legs together, forgetting his family can’t see him make the reassuring, would-be-familiar gesture.

Faith keeps smiling and shakes the can at Matt – which won’t help the situation – so he quickly accepts it with a quiet thanks, but places it straight on the table, his attention now solely on Aaron.

His green eyes flicker with questions, but Aaron doesn’t know how to tell him he’s fine with it without giving themselves away. Because he is; fine with it. He might not have asked had Chas not looked at him like that, but now he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. They’ve got options, and Aaron remembers Matt driving ten miles out of his way so Aaron could relax at his family lunch.

“I have to get up at five,” Matt says quietly, either as a warning or a way out, but it doesn’t matter.

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he responds with a joking eye-roll, a small smile finding its way on his lips. For a brief moment, he thinks about daring to reach his hand under the table to squeeze Matt’s knee, something sharp and physical to try and get the message across; instead, he reaches for Matt’s can, holds his eyes as he taps the top three times to counteract Faith’s shaking, and cracks it open.

He thumps in back down in front of Matt decisively, only a little foam spilling from the top.

“Well that’s you told,” Faith says with a sly tilt to her voice, but Aaron pays her no mind, taking a long sip from his own can.

He can physically feel Chas’s attention slip away from him, spots her smiling to herself from the corner of his eye, and tries to convince himself it was a victory for _him_.

From one moment to the next, Chas and Faith are wrapped up in other drama and for one blissful – if itchingly familiar – minute, everyone forgets Aaron and Matt exist.

Everyone but Matt, that is, who takes opportunity to say, “Thanks,” quietly to him, before lifting his beer and slurping at the foam covering the top.

Aaron bites at his lip, fighting off an unexpected smile as he thinks about how much Liv hates it when _he_ does that, and wonders if that’s what’ll end up breaking the remaining ice between her and Matt.

Rowdy cheers rise up around him as Marlon brings the turkey to the table, all bruised ego brushed aside as he places it in front of Cain with a proud and excited grin.

It turns into a bit of a frenzy then.

Hands reach for several bowls in several directions, and Aaron joins the traffic like a cabbie weaves through the streets of Leeds, making sure to grab the parsnips for Liv as well, since they’re her favourite and she’s still a little new to this particular mêlée.

She smiles and offers him the carrots in exchange, and it’s only when he goes to ask Matt if he wants some that he sees him sitting stock still, watching arms move every which way with wide eyes and complete incomprehension.

“Alright?” Matt almost startles as Aaron offers the bowl to him, but takes it with a grateful smile that turns a little self-conscious as he nods to the table.

“Think I’ll wait till everyone’s got theirs.”

Aaron snorts, “If you do that, you’ll end up with nothing.”

He moves to grab and fight for dishes like he always does, but makes sure to pass them to Matt after he’s done, who then passes it Paddy just to avoid having to find it a place back on the table.

At least Cain is sitting at their end of the table, so they’ll get the good cuts of the turkey first.

“Hang on, hang on!” Chas shouts, which only partially succeeds in getting people’s attention. “We haven’t pulled the crackers yet!”

The way she immediately fusses over Belle, making sure she has a cracker, halts any groans or complaints about delaying food, and even Cain stops carving to reach for one, though his face remains in an unimpressed grimace.

Bangs erupt around them; Aaron turns to pull his with Liv to find Gabby already holding one out to him, Liv sitting between them triumph look as she picks out whatever plastic tat she one.

He smiles, taking the other end, and laughs when she cheers herself at winning.

“C’mon love,” Faith calls to him, pointing at his forgotten cracker. She holds out an expectant hand across the table, an orange crown already sitting on her hair. “Not that you haven’t already pulled one cracker,” she winks, tilting her head towards Matt.

He rolls his eyes but hands it out to her, and just manages to catch the tiny deck of cards before they fall into the gravy jug.

“What’d you get?” Matt asks, leaning into him as Aaron pushes all the crap into one pile at the side; he’s tempted to throw it onto the floor, but with Monty prowling the perimeter of the table scrounging for fallen scraps, it doesn’t seem like a good idea. He holds the cards up, and sees Matt wearing his own hat and a dopey grin on his face. “Oh, those are kinda cool actually.”

Aaron snorts, holding them out to him. “You have them then.”

“You spoil me,” he says teasingly, picking them from Aaron’s hand and placing them on the table between them. When Aaron reaches for more food, he points to Aaron’s still neatly folded hat sitting on the table, a small smirk on his lips. “Too cool for school?”

Aaron huffs again, giving him a pointed look. “No threat of that when I’m sitting next to you.”

Matt laughs, but it’s noticing that everyone else is wearing their hat that makes Aaron reluctantly put his on. Everyone but Cain, that is.

“Not gonna join in?” Matt asks him, leaning forward a little to do so. Cain gives him a silent, dead stare as he continues to carve, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Seems a shame...” His questioning doesn’t go unnoticed, but whilst those that hear him look at Matt with the warning, pitying look they have for people who don’t know Cain Dingle, Aaron catches a glint in his eye, the twitch in his lip, and sees a man who runs into fires for a living.

It lights a brief, hot spark in Aaron’s chest.

Cain opens his mouth, bushy brows furrowed into a deep frown, but commotion at the other end of the table interrupts him before he can start.

“Sam, not now-” Lydia’s plea is the only warning they get before Sam shouts;

“Happy Birthday, Belle!” And a loud bang sounds as he pulls a streamer, bursts of cheap, colourful paper reams shooting into the air and floating down all over the table.

“The food!” Marlon despairs, and everyone reaches forward to catch what they can before it lands in all the bowls. The kids love it, and Belle starts laughing, loudly, genuinely, and not even Marlon can find it in him to kick up a fuss much less fight off a smile as hands grab at thin air and throw dirtied streamers at each other; Aaron pulls the pile Liv placed around his neck, and dumps it onto her hair in retaliation, laughing as she tries to bat him away.

Lunch passes in a whirlwind of laughter and too many conversations, everyone quickly giving up trying eat around the crepe paper they find in their food and continue to stuff themselves full like every family at every Christmas. The annual row at the table comes surprisingly from Noah and Sarah this year, and though it drags plenty of others into shouting, it all blows over by pudding, which is a first.

All in all, it’s a pretty good Christmas.

~~~

Aaron grabs he and Matt another beer as the kids are put to work piling up the dishes in the kitchen; Aaron’s beginning to realise why someone put up the tacky, offensively colourful bead curtain over the archway.

Matt thanks him as he cracks it open, and Aaron stands beside him, leaning back against the sideboard as they watch the commotion around them. There really isn’t enough room for everyone to move around with all the normal furniture pushed to the edges so they could create the large table in the middle, but Matt had said he needed to move a bit after eating so much and Aaron had needed more alcohol.

He’s surprised there’s any beers left in the fridge, the state Sammy’s in. He’s currently rousing the family together to play charades, which a baffling number of people are excitedly behind, making Aaron wonder where they’re sneaking the stronger stuff and whether he should be getting some of that instead.

“So, how’s it been?” Matt asks under his breath, knocking his shoulder a little. Aaron raises an eyebrow at him as takes a drink. “Christmas, so far,” he elaborates. “As bad as you thought it would be?”

Aaron huffs and relaxes his shoulders, watching as the rest of the room tires to organise themselves into teams. “Not even close.” Though he wonders how long that’ll last when every one of his family start to embarrass themselves with the game and then force him to do the same.

Matt flicking the tab of his can catches his eye, and when he glances at him, he thinks maybe he could – should – offer more than that. “It’s been good,” he says quietly, and it has. He’d been quietly dreading today for weeks; the questions, the looks, the well meaning but terrible advice, the loneliness and the well-fed fear of never having his _someone_ that flares up at celebrations. But none of that came; he’s been happy and felt part of his family again. And he wishes he didn’t have to lie, didn’t have to have some random person be here with him to make that happen, but he can’t deny it’s been easier. It’s made it all so much easier.

“Thank you,” he continues just as quietly, belatedly knocking Matt’s shoulder back and meeting his eyes. He both hopes and fears Matt will see the sincerity there and all the words he won’t say.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insists softly, but Aaron shakes his head.

“Today wasn’t part of the deal.”

“But it was my idea. And I’ve enjoyed it.” His smile is wide as he looks out at the rest of Dingles, still half squabbling and trying to find their seats at the table again. His smile’s a little softer when he turns back to Aaron. “Besides, you’re gonna have to put me up for the night now, so I should be thanking you.” His face twitches into a brief frown and he leans back a bit as he suddenly thinks to say, “I could get a cab, though. Just coz your mum-”

“And what, get another cab to work and another to pick your car up tomorrow?” He asks mockingly. “It’s fine, Matt.”

He doesn’t look entirely sure, but he doesn’t look unhappy about it either. He shifts, resting back against the sideboard a little closer to Aaron. “Then let’s say it make us even, then.”

Aaron nods, agreeing easily, though he’s not sure it does.

“Lydia will keep score!” Sam shouts above the general din, standing at the head of the table and pointing decisively at his fiancée as she walks past Aaron and Matt to the kitchen.

“Lydia,” she replies. “Will be making a start on all that mess.”

“I’ll do that,” Matt says, standing up straight and putting his beer to the side.

“What?” Lydia and Aaron ask at the same time.

“I’ll do the washing up; you enjoy the game.”

Aaron’s face twists into a frown of mild disgust as he stares at Matt, Lydia replying, “It’s very sweet of you to offer, but you’re our guest.” She places her hands on his arms, trying to gently steer him in the direction of the table, but he uses the opportunity to slip the towel from her hand instead.

“Least I could do, after all that food and turning up last minute.”

There’s a cut off noise from Marlon, clearly about to make some comment about being the one to provide most of the food, Paddy elbowing him sharply and watching the scene with wide eyes. In fact, half the table is looking at Matt like he’s just landed from Mars, and the other half isn’t paying them a blind bit of notice.

Chas, naturally, is one of the watching party. “You don’t have to do that, love.”

“You really don’t,” Aaron adds with a grumble.

“I want to,” he insists, sliding a light hand over Lydia’s back and gently pushing her forwards with a smile. She doesn’t look thrilled about it – Aaron’s never managed to wrap his head around why she likes cleaning so much – but she also looks slightly dazed and charmed; lord knows Dingle men aren’t known for clearing up after themselves. Before she can put up any more protest though, Matt disappears behind that awful curtain, and the sound of the tap running follows shortly after.

Sam calls Lydia again, and it’s enough to get her to go over. Aaron moves his gaze from where the beads still sway to his family, meeting his mum’s eyes immediately. She stares at him with a look of surprise that matches his own, but slowly it morphs into a frown, that turns into a glare, and he rolls his eyes and sighs as he stands and follows Matt into the kitchen.

He’s taking his beer with him, though.

It’s an absolute mess, the tiny alcove of a kitchen. Plates are piled high next to the sink, cutlery sticking out from it in all directions like a particularly dangerous game or a manmade cactus, and pans litter and balance across the cooker and other counter.

It looks even less fun than Aaron had imagined.

Matt’s already made a start, sleeves rolled up and suds sticking to his forearms. He looks at Aaron as he bolsters his way through the curtain, and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Guess I’ll do the drying, then,” Aaron mumbles, coming to stand beside him and trying to find a safe place to put his can down next to all the plates.

“You don’t have to,” he starts, surprised that Aaron’s joined him. Aaron huffs.

“Yeah, I do.” Matt looks about to protest, but Aaron snatches the towel he draped over his shoulder and doesn’t give him a chance to. “You’re really racking up those brownie points, huh?”

Matt chuckles. “Well, you said I had to be better to get your mum off our backs.” He bites his lip as he looks at Aaron, his green eyes flicking down to where Aaron’s fiddling with the towel, _not_ drying anything, and back up. He expects, if anything, for Matt to tell him to start pulling his weight, but there’s something soft about the way he looks, something almost coy, and though Aaron can’t work it out, it sends fluttering across his stomach.

The game’s gotten noisy round the table; guesses and laughing and frustration all melding into a blanket of raucous noise, but somehow it feels far away as Matt turns back to the sink, probably due to Aaron’s regular tuning out of his family.

He grabs a plate from the rack to dry, Matt speaking again before Aaron can think of a reply.

“To be honest,” he says quietly between them with a rakish smile. “I can get a bit over competitive. It’s less about brownie points and more about not throwing a tantrum in front of your whole family.”

Aaron quirks an eyebrow sceptically. “Over charades?”

“Scrabble’s still banned in our house.”

“ _Scrabble_?”

“It’s not the best game to play when your sister’s six years older than you and likes to show off. Leads to feelings of inadequacy and resentment, and throwing dictionaries at each other like the middle class spoilt brats we are.”

“Don’t think my family’s ever even played it.”

“Then we’re the perfect match,” he says with a grin, and Aaron finds himself laughing.

They chat for a little bit, about absolutely nothing, before Matt starts his own game between them, trying to guess the charade from the shouting they can hear. It’s incredibly dumb, and when Matt gets one right and smiles smugly and excitedly, Aaron has to shove him and insult him to stop himself from smiling back.

“It must be nice,” Matt says a moment later, laughter and cheering still swelling in the other room. “To have such a big family.” He takes another couple plates from the vastly dwindled pile as Aaron puts the one in his hands away. “There was only ever the four of us, till Chloe had the boys.”

Aaron’s immediate thought is that four doesn’t seem like such a small family, but there’s something in the way Matt said it that resonates, and Aaron knows, however many people there are, there are times where it can feel like a lot less; like not enough.

“It’s alright,” he says instead, and doesn’t mention that he didn’t always have this, or the fights or the courts or how it doesn’t matter if there’s a Dingle every twenty yards if they’re all keeping their distance; the wistful smile on Matt’s face isn’t looking for that kind of answer. “It’s best at Christmas, though.”

Matt turns to smile at him, something by Aaron’s shoulder catching his eye. “Well you certainly look the part.”

He reaches for Aaron’s neck, and he jolts back instinctively. Matt watches him with wide eyes, a small clutch of streamers dangling from his frozen fingers, as Aaron rubs at his neck even though Matt hadn’t touched him.

Matt’s eyes widen a little further.

“You lied to me,” he says, dramatically accusing, his hand belatedly and theatrically going to his chest.

“What?”

“You are ticklish,” he hisses exaggeratedly, and Aaron rolls his eyes in attempt to push down his embarrassment. He stretches his half-forgotten towel in his hands, absently noticing that it’s become redundantly damp, as Matt prattles on and throws the streamers in the direction of the bin. “My own fake-boyfriend, lying to me...”

“We weren’t even fake-dating then,” he rolls his eyes again.

“Paddy seemed pretty certain we were.”

“Not officially-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. “This is the stupidest conversation I’ve ever had.”

Matt gives him a pointed look, “I find that hard to believe.”

Aaron pushes him and his restrained laughter spills out as he sways to the side; Aaron’s temped to pinch at his stretched waist, just where his jumper’s started to ride up, to see if Matt’s just as ticklish, but thinks better of it lest he retaliate.

Spotting another towel folded the other side of Matt, Aaron tosses the wet one aside and leans across him to reach for it. He jerks back as Matt’s face is suddenly in front of his. “Sorry,” he says quickly, his face heating in surprise as Matt blinks slowly. He notices that Matt’s leaning forward too, and looks behind him to see what he’d been reaching for, spotting a bowl by his elbow. He picks it up swiftly before turning back to Matt, his quickened, embarrassed heartbeat making him move and speak hastily. “Did you want this? I was just trying to get the towel...” he points to other side of the counter.

Matt looks down at the bowl then over to the towel, and Aaron could swallow his own tongue at how un-smoothly he reacted, his uncharacteristically rapid talking clearly confusing Matt further.

“Er,” he looks at Aaron and then back to the bowl. “Yeah,” he clears his throat and seems to almost shake his head before saying clearer, “Yeah. Sorry.” He takes the bowl and then snatches up the towel and hands it to Aaron. “I didn’t realise I had it.” He chuckles, the sound breathy and weak compared to how he’d been laughing a moment ago. “That could’ve been nasty, huh?”

Aaron huffs as he goes back to drying, his lingering awkwardness making it a quiet, high sound. “Won’t be the dumbest thing people are in A&E for today, but wouldn’t fancy telling people we head-butted each other whilst washing up.”

Matt snorts, the sound harsher than usual. Aaron looks at him to see a wry smile on his face, “Glasgow Kiss, right?”

They go back to the task, but a quiet falls between them, heavy and uncomfortable because it’s unusual for them, Aaron realises. He supposes that’s because Matt is usually filling it, putting the work into the conversation, and now Aaron’s gone and made him feel awkward by shoving his face in his with his awful timing and poor attention span.

At least it’s not silent, with the game still going in the other room, his mum’s excited voice rising above everyone else’s shouts.

“Sea! Swim! Teeth!”

“Jaws,” he says quietly to Matt.

“Jaws!”

Cheers erupt from the other side of the curtain, and Matt laughs loudly and easily as Aaron gives him a self-satisfied smile.

“Oh?” He elbows Aaron lightly, raising a challenging eyebrow. “You gonna play properly this time, Dingle?”

~~~

It’s late by the time they make their way home, after Aaron and Matt’s game had dissolved into aimless chatting, and Lydia chastised Matt over his pruned hands; after Paddy and Charity argued over a point that wouldn’t have changed the game, and a drunken Marlon clung to Matt, insisting he came to curry night and holding on until he promised he would; after plenty more drinks all round, and a row between Gabby and Bernice that ended with Gabby trying her best to conceal her tears and them bringing her home with them for the night.

Aaron’s not good with his own tears never mind anyone else’s, and Liv doesn’t seem to fair much better, but she tries and that more than anything is what gets Gabby laughing again and linking their arms together. Matt doesn’t even try to interfere, but he walks next to Aaron as he shepherds them both home.

He offers everyone a hot drink when they get in from the cold, to which Gabby asks unusually shyly for a hot chocolate, and so he sends them both up with one.

Matt declines and stands to the side, wishing them both a goodnight as they carefully head up the stairs.

“C’mon,” Aaron says to him, nodding after the girls and not even waiting until they get to Liv’s room. “Better find you something to sleep in.”

Matt follows him quietly to his room, the only real sound he makes is to push the door closed after Aaron gestures him to. They’re the same height and not so different in shape that some sweats and a soft t-shirt won’t do the trick, so Aaron digs through his chest of draws to pull some out, weirdly self-conscious about picking something that he’s worn too many times to really give to someone else.

When he turns to hand them over, Matt is again standing to the side, as far out of the way as possible, but looking around the room nosily, clearly trying – and failing – not to be obvious about it. Aaron’s not bothered by it, though he does glance around himself to see what it might look like to a stranger; he’s renovated it a bit recently, but there’s still not much to look at beyond an unmade bed and the little messes of a daily routine.

Not like he isn’t already familiar with the calendar Aaron tossed onto his bed earlier.

“Here,” he holds the clothes out to him and Matt snaps to attention, stepping closer with a small smile to take them from him.

“Thanks. Sorry for the trouble-”

Aaron groans. “Stop apologising. Bathroom’s there if you want to use it first.” He points harshly at the door opposite.

“En suite?” Matt almost teases, eyebrow raised. “Very grown up.”

Aaron snorts, “I’ve shared with too many of my family for too long. It’s a necessity.”

Matt chuckles as he heads in, and Aaron digs out some other sweats he can wear, changing into them and the hoodie he wore the night before whilst Matt’s safely locked in the bathroom. He also snatches up the calendar without looking at it to dump it to the side, and stands over his bed, thinking about what extra bedding his has in the closet.

Matt steps out then, his clothes a small bundle in his arms and the edges of his hair damp from where he’s splashed water on his face.

“Okay if I leave these here?” He asks, already placing his clothes on the floor near where he was standing before. Aaron grunts his approval, somewhat unnecessarily, and watches as Matt straightens again, his phone in one hand and the other pushing through his dark hair.

Aaron swallows. Everything about Matt in that moment looks soft; from the strands of his hair, the slight stretch of the t-shirt over his chest and biceps, the loose way the trousers hang from his hips, to the way he looks at Aaron from across the room.

“I can take the couch,” Matt says quietly, hand dropping to his side. Aaron had just been thinking the same, well, he’d been thinking _he’d_ take the couch, and Matt clearly came to the same conclusion he had; “I’m sure the girls won’t be going back down before five.”

Aaron sighs and rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling tired again. “But they might.” Plenty of excuses and alibis had crossed Aaron’s mind, but at the end of the day, “I’m not sure it’s worth doing this if they think we’ve rowed afterwards.” It could set them up nicely for the break-up, but the point was to get some peace over the holidays, not invite more interfering.

Matt hums in agreement, but there’s a small frown on his face that looks as though he might do something stupid like apologise again, so Aaron speak before he can. “I can crash on the floor-”

His frown deepens straight into a scowl. “I’m not kicking you out of your bed, Aaron.” He glances at said floor, to the bed, and then shrugs as he looks back to Aaron. “Look, I don’t know about you, but I’ve shared a bed with blokes I’ve known a lot less...”

Aaron has too, and it’s a valid point. It just hadn’t seemed right for Aaron to offer it up when they’re definitely not dating but also toeing the line of a not-quite friendship. But if Matt’s alright with it, “Sure,” he shrugs back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, if you’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Aaron clears his throat and turns to look busy with folding his clothes so he can wince at how clumsy that had been, but the problem’s solved and he doesn’t waste too much time getting to his much desired sleep, leaving his clothes in a pile and walking around the bed to head to the bathroom.

“Do you, er,” Matt starts as he passes him, staring at the bed like it confuses him. He glances at Aaron, waving his hand over the bed back and forth. “Do you have, like, a preference?”

Aaron’s taken to sleeping in the middle like a starfish the last few months, but Jackson, the first person he truly _shared_ a bed with, had favoured the right side and after all these years, Aaron still picks left when he has a choice.

Matt nods at his answer and Aaron leaves him to settle in, using the bathroom and fighting the temptation to duck his head under the cold tap and leave it running for a few minutes.

When he walks back in, Matt’s laying under the duvet – on the right side – fiddling with his phone. He doesn’t look up when Aaron comes in, but as he walks round the bed, he hears him put the phone on the side table and feels him watch him until he climbs in the other side. When Aaron looks over to him, he looks away and shuffles a little in the sheets.

“You need a jumper or anything?” He asks Matt, because he should have thought of that before with how bitterly cold it had been outside.

“No, I’m fine thanks.”

Aaron nods and reaches over to switch his lamp off without asking anything else; Matt’s a grown adult, if he needed something he would’ve said.

It’s pitch black as Aaron untwists himself to lie on his back, darker than he ever remembers it being and unnervingly silent; he shifts as minutely as possible, hoping to find a position where he can’t hear his own breathing so loudly.

There’s the slightest, fleeting tug on the duvet cover and a minor rustling that lets him know Matt’s fidgeting as well, and Aaron tries to still himself, concerned that his own moving is disturbing him.

Pressure lands on them heavily, the pressure not to move, not to make a sound, and Aaron stares wide eyed into the darkness above and tries not to focus so intently on Matt’s breathing that his ears ring.

The bed heats quickly, with the two of them in it, but it also makes his hands sweat.

When Matt whispers, it’s neither surprising nor disrupting.

“Why does this feel weirder when we haven’t had sex?”

Aaron snorts and forces his shoulders to relax more, burrowing them into the mattress. “I’m sure you pointing it out will make it less awkward.”

Matt huffs a laugh back, and Aaron has no idea what he’s doing, but he feels the duvet slide up a bit and the bed dip slightly as he shifts, the hairs on his arm raising at the nearby movement even though – or maybe because – they don’t touch at all.

“Did you get to speak to your family today?” he asks quietly in Matt’s direction.

“Yeah, I texted them. They say ‘Happy Christmas’, by the way.” Aaron breathes a laugh, Christmas almost over if not behind them now. “I’ll save you the torrent of emojis Chloe and Gran sent.”

“They’re not upset they didn’t get to see you?”

“They’re over the moon.”

Aaron smiles, hearing it in Matt’s voice too. His body sinks a little further into the bed, and he blinks slowly. “You sure you want to come to Curry Night in a couple of days? I doubt Marlon’s gonna remember having that conversation.”

“After all the hype everyone’s given it? I’d be an idiot not to.” He yawns suddenly, Aaron following suit. “I’ve got the early shift that day, so I can make the evening.” Quiet settles for a moment, and Aaron closes his eyes. “I really won’t be able to come to your birthday, though,” Matt whispers sounding almost distracted, his voice a little rougher as he gets more tired too.

“S’fine,” he replies with his eyes still closed. “Think we did more than enough today.”

The quiet stays this time and Aaron breathes into it slowly, trying to turn his brain off switch by switch. It still takes him time to fall asleep and he knows it’s the same for Matt by the way he breathes.

Who goes first, Aaron doesn’t know and cares even less by that point.

~~~

He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know it’s still dark when an unforgivable beeping jars him from his sleep.

He groans, so deeply he can felt it grate on his throat, but the beeping stops before he finishes his complaint.

“Sorry,” someone whispers beside him. The bed shifts and Aaron feels his own arm being moved. His pillow jostles as well, but the warmth and soft bedding settles around him so quickly, his annoyance disappears from one moment to the next and he slips back into his sleepy state, barely moving from it in the first place.

He dozes, some half-dreamed minutes feeling like hours, only vaguely aware when someone moves around the room. When he hears the handle turn slowly though, he’s on the crest of wakefulness again, so he calls out, “Bye,” that’s mostly eaten by the pillow he’s buried his face in.

It’s enough though, as a strong hand lands gently on his duvet covered ankle and a thumb seems to stroke across his leg.

“Bye, Aaron.”

The door closes, and he falls asleep again.

~~~~~

“Matt already gone?” Aaron turns to see Liv sitting at the table as he trudges down the stairs, bowl of cereal in front of her. He’d half expected her to be eating chocolate for breakfast.

He nods. “Gabby, too?” She nods back, and he yawns as he reaches under his hoodie to scratch his stomach making his way over the kettle. “She alright this morning?”

“Yeah. She went with a plan of action, but I said she could come back here if she wanted.” Aaron grunts in agreement. “She really enjoyed yesterday,” she says hesitantly, and Aaron turns to look at her. She’s smiling, something small but happy and grateful, and she looks up at him as she moves her spoon languidly round her bowl. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he smiles back. “It was.”

She nods as she looks back down at her bowl, not meeting his eyes again as she says quietly, “Best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

He thinks of the way she and Gabby had spent the day almost glued to each other sides laughing and gossiping and plotting, thinks of Sam’s enthusiasm, Belle’s laughter, the food that shut them all up for an unprecedented five whole minutes, coloured with bits of paper as it was, remembers actually feeling the lack of weight on his shoulders and the way Matt laughed as he threatened to drip water down his neck when Aaron had guessed three right in a row.

“Me, too,” he replies honestly. When Liv smiles back at him, he wonders if he could put more effort in with Sandra, have her join them for Christmas one year and create new memories to brighten the years it was just the two of them and not always enough for Liv.

Sandra had always hated the Dingles, but now that she and Chas get on, half the work is probably already done.

“After you’ve had breakfast,” Liv starts, a cheeky smirk pulling at her lips. “Fancy getting beat at the new game you got?”

He throws a nearby tea towel at her head because he can.

“You’re on.”

They spend the whole day on the couch, playing and squabbling and finding better ways to cheat, eating worse than they did yesterday and only pausing for loo breaks and to text Gabby and Matt a couple of times.

It’s without a doubt the best Boxing Day of Aaron’s life, and no one comes round to check on them.

~~~~~

Time moves strangely over the holidays; days once broken up by work and mealtimes lose all sense of purpose when relaxing is the only thing that needs to be done and the eating never really stops.

Aaron only knows what day it is today because Jacob, Gabby and that blonde girl with trouble written all over her face had come to collect Liv for their own holiday celebrations, and when he’d gone to the pub at lunchtime, Marlon had kicked everyone out of the kitchen so they wouldn’t mess with his curry.

The bar had been bedlam with Chas rolling her eyes and sending distasteful looks over her shoulder as Vic shouted at Marlon through the door, Charity threatening to sack them all one moment and threatening to quit the next, but it had already started to smell amazing.

It’s still a couple of hours before they arranged to eat when Aaron comes out of the shower, the last couple of days’ slobiness washed off and leaving him feeling bright and just as good as he had felt glued to the couch cushions.

He knows the house is empty, so he lets himself hum quietly along to his music as he stands in front of his wardrobe, and purposefully doesn’t put too much thought into how much thought he’s putting into choosing what to wear.

He’s pulling out a jumper when his phone buzzes from by the bed, and he wanders over to see a message from Matt.

_> Really sorry, won’t be able to make tonight._

Aaron doesn’t think before typing, a small frown on his face.

_< you okay?_

His reply is quick, hurried.

_> I’m fine! Just a bad day at work. Gonna head home._

There’s a small moment when three dots just continue to flash at Aaron, before more messages come in quick succession.

_> bummed i’ll miss out on the famed curry!_

_> please tell Marlon I’m sorry_

_> i’ll see you on new years tho_

Aaron bites his lip, frown unchanged.

_< yeah, cool_

He can’t think of anything else to say to that, and Matt doesn’t seem to need it when nothing else comes through.

He tosses his jumper to the side and sits heavily on the bed, suddenly stripped of the fresh and new feeling from his shower, and feels almost as grubby and sluggish as he had in his sweats an hour ago.

He gently flips his phone from one hand to the next between his bare knees, no doubt leaving little red indentations where he leans his elbows on his towel clad thighs. He glances over his arm at the discarded jumper, and for all of half a second he’s tempted not to go himself, but he’s possibly more in the mood for a good curry and some beer now than he was before.

He’ll probably wear one his hoodies now, though.

He looks back at his phone and switches it on, reading over Matt’s texts again. A remembered cold sweeps over his bare skin, Matt’s unhappy smile strangely illuminated by the dashboard as he’d said, _“when you have a bad day at work, it’s a_ bad _day.”_

Aaron bites his lip and picks at the casing of his phone with his thumbnail as he sits and lets the thought niggle at him.

~~~

It’s been an unusually dry winter, the Christmases of recent past mostly sodden and muddy with too much rainfall, but there’s hardly been any in the last couple of weeks, allowing the biting cold to spread out in morning frosts and icy patches.

This naturally stops being the case when Aaron steps off the bus and the heavens open, not with rain or with snow, but with a heavy shower of hail.

He curses as he pulls the hood of his coat up, half jogging across the road, mindful of the bag he carries and the little balls of ice that sit on the ground like tiny, deadly marbles from a slap-stick comedy.

Aaron’s only known hail showers to be brief and accompanied with a sickly yellow light, but in the dark of the early evening, it’s unrelenting, pouring down and bouncing off his body, looking almost apocalyptic when he braves to raise his head and look down the street.

Typical.

He hurries the best he can to Matt’s flat, the peeling blue paint thankfully recognisable enough to not have to pay too much attention, his concern weighing mostly on how the curry and naan bread will fair with hail stones pummelling it.

He ducks under the awning gratefully, shaking his hood off and sending the weather a baleful glare behind him before pressing the call button.

The buzzer is still unpleasantly loud, even with the sky shattering around him, but it goes unanswered. He tries again and waits, but still nothing happens.

Aaron finally allows himself to acknowledge how stupid this idea was.

He digs out his phone and takes a breath before calling.

It rings, probably not for long, but it feels that way and Aaron’s thinking about hanging up just as Matt answers with a confused, “Aaron?”

“You at home?” He cuts to the chase, which doesn’t help with Matt’s confusion.

“Yeah?”

He realises he still has an out, that he can back out here, and steels himself with a deep breath. “How are you with surprises?”

It takes him a moment to reply. “Depends, I guess...”

“I’m outside.”

“You’re-?”

“Thought I’d bring the curry to you,” he continues, getting it all out at once.

Matt goes quiet.

“I can take it back, if you’ve eaten or you don’t want it,” Aaron offers quickly, thinking that maybe he’s being too intrusive.

But Matt turned up on his doorstep first.

“No,” he suddenly replies. “I’ll buzz you up.”

In the time between Matt hanging up and the buzzer screeching loudly, the hail starts to ease up, but Aaron doesn’t pay it much mind as he goes through the door.

Matt’s waiting at the top again, leaning back against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a gentle smile. “You didn’t have to do that,” he says quietly as Aaron approaches.

Aaron shrugs as he passes him to walk into the apartment. “No problem. There was plenty there, and I figured you wouldn’t want to cook dinner.”

It was true; there had been a lot of food when Aaron had gone straight to Marlon, bypassing his mother completely. He arrived earlier than planned, but thankfully most of it was done ahead of time, and when he’d told Marlon that Matt couldn’t make it due to work, he’d happily packed a takeaway bag full, the only thing missing being the onion bhajis that he was still making.

He’d left it up to Marlon to tell the others he and Matt wouldn’t be coming.

When he puts the bag down on the table and glances back at Matt, he thinks he was probably right about the cooking too; he’s dressed in an oversized hoodie and pyjama trousers, hair a little wild and damp from showering.

“I never want to cook,” he jokes lightly, walking round to stand the other side of the table. It’s then that Aaron notices that none of the lamps or fairy lights are on, just the overhead light. “It smells amazing.”

“He’s put some poppadoms and naan in there, too.”

“That he made?” Aaron nods. “Wow.”

“Well, it is his job.”

Matt exhales a surprised laugh, his tired eyes meeting Aaron’s and lips twitching into a smile. “Thank you.”

Aaron shrugs again. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s really,” Matt trails off, looking at the bag and then back at Aaron. “Thank you,” he says again, and it sounds like it travels up from somewhere around his toes.

Aaron nods and doesn’t know what to do next. He’d brought enough for both of them, and Matt doesn’t seem in a hurry to kick him out, but he’s also put meters and a table between them and hasn’t reached for the food at all.

“Do you want me to stay or...” he asks, tilting his head towards the door.

“I’m not going to be much fun.”

Aaron shuffles his feet, about to nod and take a step back, expecting that kind of answer, and always ready and waiting for rejection.

But he pauses.

He looks at Matt, at the huddled shoulders, the arms loose around his waist, and the weak, forced smile that’s knowing and deprecating and mostly downturned despite his efforts. Matt’s looking back at him from under his eyelashes, and Aaron wonders if he’s seeing something of himself there, something his therapists have been trying to get him to work on for years.

He swallows thickly, and decides to be bold.

“That’s not what I asked,” he says as gently as he can, hoping the surety of his tone doesn’t come off as argumentative as it’s wont to do.

Matt’s eyes widen a little but he doesn’t seem offended. “I’m just gonna go to bed and watch something on my laptop whilst I eat,” he tries again, tone belittling of himself and verbally opening the door for Aaron, but still not pushing him through. When Aaron doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, and just keeps his eyes on him, Matt finally concedes, his shoulders relaxing a little and his teeth biting on a small smile. “But I wouldn’t mind the company,” he says softly, a small light in his eyes when Aaron smiles back.

“Sounds good to me,” he unzips his wet jacket, shrugging it off as he looks at the bag of food. “Hopefully it didn’t get too wet.”

Matt reaches for the bag but Aaron can feel him watching him as he goes to hang his coat on the back of the door where a couple of others rest. “I’m sure it’s fine; nothing a microwave won’t fix.”

Aaron tugs and smoothes his jumper back down, something warming flowing through him as he catches Matt look him up and down. “What were you planning on watching?” He asks as he heads back over, coming to stand next to him this time.

Matt’s grinning as he pulls out the last container. “I was thinking of watching this old action film some loser gave me; don’t know if you’ll have heard of it.”

Aaron’s lips twitch as he gently nudges him with his elbow. “Were you actually going to watch it or are you just feeling like you have to now?”

“It’s literally already in my laptop, ready for when I got out the shower and finished deciding whether I wanted to heat up some baked beans or eat them straight out of the can.” He still looks worn out when he straightens up to face Aaron, but his smile is wider, more of the Matt Aaron’s used to.

Now that Aaron’s next to him, he can see a light redness to him; in his eyes, from tiredness or smoke or where he might have cried earlier, and where his baggy hoodie gapes at his neck and shoulders, showing a thin gold chain and reddened skin from scrubbing too hard in the shower.

Aaron doesn’t want to ruin it, not his smile or the tension that’s slowly been draining from him, not when he’s finally opening up again, but his brain is catching up with him, and he doesn’t want to make Matt’s bad day worse.

“It,” he starts, shifting his weight and putting his hands in his pockets, trying not to step on anything delicate in this unfamiliar ground.”It might not be the best thing to watch.”

Hollywood explosions come with fire that comes with death and screams and close shaves.

Whatever Matt had to deal with today, Aaron can’t guarantee the film won’t remind him of it.

Matt frowns minutely, not understanding at first, but when it dawns on him, he looks at Aaron with a soft surprise. “Because there’s fire?”

Aaron shrugs, his eyebrows doing the talking for him whilst he scuffs his shoe a bit, trying to play it more casual than he feels.

Matt’s eyes flicker over his face for a second, then he nods as if Aaron asked a question. “I saw the DVD cover; I know what to expect,” he says as turns to open one of the cupboards behind their heads, offering a reassuring smile as he reaches for some plates. “Movies don’t bother me,” he continues, putting the plates on the table. “If I’m gonna have a nightmare, I’m gonna have a nightmare; it won’t be about the film.”

They both seem a little taken aback by his honesty, but Matt only falters for a second before he resumes spreading the plates out to dish up. Aaron takes a moment longer, hands shoving deeper into his pockets as he watches the side of Matt’s face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly, sincerely.

“No,” he’s quick to reply, but he does so softly, turning back to Aaron with a small but not unhappy smile. “But thank you. I _would_ like you to help plate up though, instead of watching me do all the work,” he adds teasingly, and Aaron can play this game; he shrugs his shoulders and offers a smirk.

“You seem to be doing alright.”

Matt holds his gaze and Aaron can neither deny nor explain why it sends a spark down his spine. “Cutlery’s in the draw to your right.”

With everything heated up and cold beers in hand, Aaron had wondered if Matt would bring the movie out for them to eat in the sitting room, but he sticks to the plan he’d laid out, leading Aaron down the short hallway and into his bedroom.

The lights are on in here.

They’re strung around the room, from ceiling to wall, and most of them draped by the head of Matt’s bed. They cast a soft, multicoloured light just – and only just – bright enough for the lamps to be left switched off, and something about the glow, about the way it bounces off the walls and leaves a predominantly pink gleam, brings a feeling of warmth. It brings forth an unexpected sense of nostalgia for Aaron’s happier Christmases as a child, and he thinks these are more old fashioned than the LED lights he’s decorated his own home with.

They’re more of a fire risk too, if Aaron’s not mistaken, and he finds himself – for some reason – appreciating the irony in that.

It’s not the biggest of rooms, the double bed in the centre taking up much of the space, and with the wardrobe and chest of drawers, it leaves a space little wider than his bedside tables to walk around it. Like the rest of his apartment, there are pictures and _things_ dotted around the room, but it’s not messy, and with the lights and incredibly puffy looking duvet and pillows slightly ruffled on the bed, it looks cosy, homely; like the only place you’d want to be after a rough day.

Even with the changes Aaron’s made to his own bedroom, he can’t help but wonder if it had still looked cold to Matt in comparison.

He spots the laptop sitting open on the bed as Matt moves round the right side, and Aaron takes his cue to go left, putting his plate and beer down on the table there after seeing Matt do the same.

“Shoes off before you get on the bed, please,” he orders lightly, pulling the duvet back to climb in.

Aaron toes his boots off where he stands, but hesitates as he looks at the bed, unsure whether he should sit on top of the covers or get underneath like Matt had. It must show on his face as Matt shrugs uncaringly at his hesitation whilst he pushes the pillows against the headboard for Aaron to sit against.

He pulls the duvet back and slides in; it feels a bit odd to sit under it in his jeans, but a cold and damp December night isn’t the time to shun any extra warmth.

Once he’s settled, Matt moves the laptop and plate of poppadoms and naan to sit between them, stabbing his thumb through the crisp pile, cracking them into easier-to-share pieces and projecting crumbs across the bedding as he does so.

He grunts. “I’m gonna regret doing that tomorrow.”

Aaron picks a piece up and bites into it satisfyingly. “That’s another good thing about being single; can actually eat breakfast in bed. Push all the mess to the other side if it bothers you.”

Matt laughs as he reaches forward, hitting play before settling back and bringing his food hold against his chest.

“Oh,” he moans as he takes his first bite, pointing at the curry with his fork repeatedly. “This is _good_.”

Aaron smirks. “Told you.”

They’re quiet for the most part as they watch, only the odd comment here and there as they continue eating; Aaron feels a little smug at how Matt gets engrossed pretty early on.

By the time the final scenes start playing, there isn’t a scrap of food left, empty plates moved to the nightstands, and they’ve both slouched down the headboard. Aaron feels warmed from the inside, comfortably full, and the soft lighting lulling him into a relaxed, satiated state. When the credits start rolling, he turns his head to Matt, smirking as he sees him smiling at the darkened screen.

He waits, and Matt knows he’s waiting, taking his time before sliding his eyes to meet Aaron’s. He holds his gaze there for a moment longer, building a false-suspense like Aaron doesn’t know what he’s going to say when it’s written all over his face. “I take everything I said back; that’s the best action film I’ve ever seen.”

Aaron spreads his arms out arrogantly, another ‘I told you so’ without needing words.

“I can’t believe all those straight men that bang on about it were right.”

Aaron laughs, “I guess there’s a first for everything.”

“Makes me think I should give the second one another try.”

Aaron huffs, “No you shouldn’t. Third one’s alright, but the second one is better of forgotten.”

Matt chuckles lightly, scratching idly at his neck, gold chain catching the light.

“What is that?” Aaron asks before thinking, and tries to hide his embarrassment when Matt raises an eyebrow at him. He lets out a small _oh_ , when Aaron points to his neck, and he pulls the chain out from under his hoodie.

“It’s a St. Christopher.” A small, round pendant swings from where he holds the chain out with his finger; Aaron can’t make out the details, but can see a shape’s engraved into it. “My grandparents gave it to me at my Confirmation,” he continues quietly. “Haven’t taken it off since.”

Aaron’s mildly surprised, though he supposes he shouldn’t be after seeing the collection of crosses on his grandparents’ wall. He’s tempted to ask if he’s still Catholic, if he still believes in that stuff when he’s handed days like today, but he doesn’t. What is it they say? Don’t talk politics, religion or money on a first date – not that this is a date – but he doesn’t want to risk ruining the night; it’s none of his business, and he’s not that interested anyway.

It’s not something he knows much about, but he understands the symbol is meant to be some form of protection.

“Did you always want to be a fire fighter?” he asks just as quietly, shifting onto his side more.

“No,” Matt laughs. “But I couldn’t stand still for very long as a kid, wandering off here, there and everywhere.” He turns his head to Aaron with a sly smile. “Couldn’t stay away from trouble for long either.”

Aaron chuckles breathily. “And now you’re an upstanding member of society,” he teases.

“Well,” there’s a humoured glint in his eye as he drops the chain. “I try.”

A moment passes where they just look at each other, Matt’s eyes a little watery, maybe for the same reasons they were a touch red, and reflecting the coloured lights in the green of them. Aaron looks away first, shuffling as a pretext for breaking the contact.

He’s quick to look back though, when Matt speaks. “Fancy watching the third one if I can find it?” He nods his head toward the laptop.

“Sure,” he bites his lip as he watches Matt lean forward. “S’not a Christmas film though. Or anywhere near as good as this one.”

Matt grins at him over his shoulder. “Well, obviously.”

~~~~~

Aaron doesn’t remember falling asleep. He doesn’t remember where he is either, at first.

When he blinks his eyes open, he sees an empty beer bottle and a distinctly orange tinge to the dirty plate sitting on the nightstand beyond the sideways pillow he’s got his face stuffed into, and instantly recalls the curry and eating with Matt.

He closes his eyes again, urgent question answered, and lays contently in the state between asleep and awake, happy to let his body decide which way to go.

He doesn’t remember moving to lie down, or deciding to stay. He doesn’t remember finishing the film or even switching it off, so he lazily concludes he drifted off while it was still playing.

He lies there for a minute or two breathing deeply, ready to drop off again, but his body chooses differently, waking up and feeding him more and more awareness.

His legs are stiff and overheated, and when he moves them he feels the denim rub against his skin. His waist is a little sore too, now that he thinks about it, and when he purposefully breathes deeply, he can almost feel the angry red line where he’s pressed his still buttoned jeans into his skin.

He shifts in a pointless attempt to unwheld the material from his stomach, and bumps into a solid weight behind him.

His eyes snap open.

He’s got his own arms wrapped around the pillow, but when he looks down he sees another arm on top of the cover, resting over his ribs and hand atop his chest. There’s a warm pressure against his shoulder, a knee faintly digging into the back of his thigh, and Aaron hasn’t got a clue what to do.

His heart starts beating wildly and what he thought was a comforting heat underneath the duvet becomes a stifling, sweltering inferno. He wants to kick the duvet up to get some air in, he wants to slip out of the bed without Matt noticing, he wants to slide his hand over of Matt’s and pull it in tighter before burrowing back into the pillow and into sleep.

That last thought more than anything makes him freak out, but when he clutches at the pillow instead, he allows himself enough breathing space to wonder if going back to sleep isn’t the best option; let Matt wake up and be the one to deal with it.

Of course, sleep seems like a foreign, insurmountable concept right about now.

Still undecided and completely adrift, he slowly and ever so carefully moves forward to create some space between them, but somehow it’s enough to stir Matt, his arm tightening over Aaron and his head almost rubbing on Aaron’s shoulder.

Aaron freezes. Breathes tight and shallow.

A few seconds later, Matt’s arm jerks away from him and cold air floods the space his body leaves.

Here, Aaron has the choice of either pretending to still be asleep or face Matt head on, but he’s not convinced how well he can pull the former off with his breathing short, body tense, and eyes still wide open.

Matt confirms that for him. “Sorry,” he hisses in that way people do when they want to be both quiet and emphatic. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Aaron croaks, his first words of the day sticky and rough. He clears his throat. “Happens, dun it.”

Matt groans, and when Aaron rolls to lie on his back, he sees Matt’s done the same, scrubbing both hands over his face.

“I’m not even sure what day it is, never mind the time.”

Aaron checks his jeans in a panic for his phone before remembering he left it in his jacket pocket and sighing in relief. He glances back at Matt, still buried behind his hands. “You got work today?”

“Late shift.” He removes his hands, flopping them down by his side with his own sigh. Aaron frowns minutely, privately wondering if Matt should go back to work so soon after whatever happened yesterday. He pushes it aside though, when Matt turns his head to him. “You?”

Aaron shrugs. “Holiday.”

“Ah, yes,” Matt says with a sleepy but teasing smile. “Forgot you were a big boss man; even if you were working today, you’d be able to rock up whenever you like.”

Aaron snorts but doesn’t add anything else. Instead he slowly sits up, stretching his neck a bit. “I should get going though, I didn’t tell Liv I’d stay out,” he gives Matt a sheepish look, half gesturing to the mattress between them. “Obviously.”

Matt’s only reply is a grunt as he pushes himself up into sitting too, but Aaron feels a jittering in his veins that can’t leave it be like that.

“Sorry,” he needs to say, even as Matt looks at him oddly. “For crashing like that. I guess I fell asleep during the film?”

Matt snuffs a short laugh, “We both did. I woke up nearly kicking my laptop clear off the bed.” He gives Aaron an unsure, almost concerned, look. “Should I have woken you?”

“No,” Aaron reassures him. “But I’m sorry for, y’know. I didn’t mean to stay.”

Matt gives him a dry look that says it all - Matt doesn’t care, Aaron put him up first, Aaron was the one who woke up with Matt wrapped around him like a limpet – so he concedes the point and stands up, wincing as he runs his hand under the waistband of jeans and finally un-sticks his skin.

“Do you want some breakfast before you go?” Matt asks as climbs from the bed and stretches his back; Aaron tries not to grimace at the pop of his shoulders. “I’ve got most things, but if you like your eggs poached or are fussy about how they’re fried, you’re fresh outta luck.”

Aaron smiles as he bends to put his shoes on. His initial response is to decline, to get out of there quick, to not be a burden. He takes a breath, thinks about how he made Matt be honest last night, and answers, “Wouldn’t mind some toast.”

“Anything with it?” Matt replies easily.

“Just butter.”

Matt nods. “I’ll put some on. Bathroom’s just opposite if you want to use it,” he adds as he heads out the door, pointing in the general direction.

Aaron sort of wishes he _hadn’t_ used it as he stares at his reflection the mirror, hair too flat one side and too curly on the other. He splashes water over his face and tries to do some damage control with his damp hands, but he supposes it’s too late anyway; Matt’s already seen the state of him.

He sighs at the creases in his jumper as well, and hopes a normal wash will be enough to restore it back to being one of his better tops. He smoothes it down, calls it a lost cause, and heads to the kitchen.

There’s a couple of slices of toast already plated and buttered for him when he walks in, and he doesn’t hesitate in taking the top piece as he sees Matt pouring cereal into a bowl, the kettle boiling beside him.

“Drink?” He asks, heading to the fridge to grab the milk.

“No, ta. Best be off.”

Something flickers across Matt’s face, but it doesn’t seem like anything bad when he nods. Aaron’s just finishing his first slice and brushing his hands down on his jeans though, when Matt speaks up, stepping in before Aaron could start saying goodbye.

“Look, Aaron,” he places his bowl down, turning to face Aaron full on and putting his hands in the pouch of his hoodie as he leans his hip against the counter. “Thank you. For coming round, for the food,” he says sincerely, adding, “For the DVD,” with a smile.

Aaron swallows. “Like I said-”

“I know,” he cuts him off softly, and not without mercy. “But I appreciate it.”

Aaron nods, hands slipping into his pockets as he sways forward a little, his mouth twitching into a smile. “I had fun.”

Matt’s smile softens, but before anything else can be said, his phone starts ringing, and Aaron has to stop himself from laughing at the comically quick way his expression turns into the confused indignation Aaron’s pretty sure he’s only ever seen on cats and babies before.

While Matt reaches for his phone, Aaron grabs his other slice of toast and holds it in his teeth, pointing to the door even as he walks towards it and grabs his coat. Matt nods, answering the phone but keeping his eyes on Aaron, offering a small wave as he opens the door that Aaron returns before closing it as quietly as he can behind him.

He feels warm as he steps out into the cold, mid-morning air, and finishes his toast in large bites as he heads towards the bus stop.

~~~

“Alright, dirty stop out,” Liv greets him with a smirk as soon as he steps through the door. “Hope you picked up some milk on your way home.”

“Get it yourself,” he ruffles her hair as he passes behind her chair, grinning at her complaints as he heads up the stairs for a shower.

~~~~~

When Chas texts him on the 31st asking if he wants to come over for pint at lunchtime, Aaron doesn’t think twice about it. Since plucking a boyfriend out of thin air – or rather, out of a coffee shop and a panicked haze – things with his mum have settled; he no longer feels a tension, she no longer watches him like a hawk, and landmines have stopped being hidden in every other question.

Whether for the right or wrong reason, she finally understands he’s happy and is letting him get on with his life, and he in turn goes to the pub regularly again.

It’s not an unusual or suspicious text.

He should have known better.

He has to fight his way through the door, strips of static-y silver foil covering the entrance and wrapping around his arms and neck like something out of a low budget 70s horror film. When he finally shakes himself free, he finds Charity up a ladder with a garland in her hand and arguing impressively with Marlon considering she had two drawing pins in her mouth, Bob trying to plug something into the speakers and making them screech, Vic rushing to place a platter on the table with a face startlingly red against her chef whites, and a mass of decorations that look nothing less than a pound-shop bombsite.

Amidst it all is his mum, spinning around to face him with wide arms. “Aaron!”

“No,” he responds immediately, turning on his heel.

“C’mon, love,” she snags his arm, and he’ll never understand how she’s always quicker than him when she’s in heels. “Just help me sort the decorations?”

“No.”

“There’ll be a pint in it for you...”

“There’ll be a pint for me tonight regardless.”

“It’ll just take ten minutes,” she tugs sharply on his captured arm, and he makes the mistake of looking at her. “I promise.”

He stares her down for approximately fifteen seconds before sighing, wincing away from her attempts at kissing his cheek in gratitude. “Ten minutes. I’m setting an alarm.”

“Great! I’ll get the others from the back.”

“Of course there’s more,” he grumbles as she trotters around the bar and he walks over to the pile of _stuff_ amassed on the floor, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

“I’d make a run for it now, if I were you,” Vic tells him with a smile and a squeeze to his arm as she passes, and he gives her an amused nod in return.

He kicks the pile with his toe, and glances around him; Charity looks ready to try killing a man with a pin, Bob will be playing DJ tonight, and his mum is already in a bargaining mood.

Instead of setting a timer, he shoots a message to Matt.

_> hope you’re ready for tonight_

Matt’s reply is instant, and he bites down on a smile.

_< yippee-ki-yay mf_

~~~

Aaron’s never been a fan of New Year’s; too many regrets in the year gone, not enough optimism for the year ahead, and too often he’s spent the night either on his own or with his mum.

A whole lot of hype for a whole lot of nothing, and this year should be no different. Except it is.

He’s in a good mood as soon as evening descends, one that even a bunch of teenagers congregating in his living room can’t dampen as he gets ready, pulling on a blue jumper that sometimes-clings-sometimes-doesn’t.

When he gets back downstairs, they appear to be arguing about whether to go to the pub or not, Gabby and the blonde one complaining about how embarrassing their parents are and Jacob doing a poor impression of someone who agrees, as if he doesn’t still worship the ground David walks on.

Aaron stays out of it until he hears the word ‘pre-drinks’; thankfully a pointed glare is enough to have them kowtowing and reconsidering, and he doesn’t worry too much about it as he leaves, Liv and Gabby having learnt their own lessons with drink for the time being.

“See you later,” he says decisively, knowing how the best laid plans of teenagers stuck in a village go, and heads off to start celebrating with his own embarrassing parents.

There’s a good crowd when he arrives, but Chas still manages to greet him with a pint and a wide smile, the silly decorations on her headband bobbing as she moves.

She does the same for Matt when he walks in a little later.

“Hey,” he greets Aaron with a grin and a hand on his shoulder, the cold air clinging to him and smelling like the fresh night outside, a stark contrast to the booze being eagerly drunk all around them. It doesn’t last long, the heat of the crowd and the unmistakable, cloying smell of a pub swallowing him up as he says hello to Chas too, accepting the drink from her gratefully.

He puts it down on the bar to take his jacket it off, revealing a surprisingly red shirt that does a lot for his dark features and very little to hide how tight his black jeans are.

He looks good. Really good. Better still when he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows and insists on buying Aaron a drink.

It runs through Aaron’s mind, telling him how good he looks, and when he catches up with the thought, he thinks about changing it to something less obvious, like he looks better, but that’s not what Aaron means, and it would probably only dampen the mood before it could even begin.

So, as it often happens, he doesn’t say anything at all, but Matt doesn’t notice, doesn’t trip on the empty space of words unsaid, and starts the conversation and settles next to Aaron with a fluid ease that’s effortless to follow. Chas hovers and eavesdrops as best she can as they chat, but it doesn’t annoy Aaron as much as it usually does; whether that’s because it’s easy to forget she’s there as she’s constantly pulled from one end of the bar to the other by customers or because of the smile he keeps catching on her face, Aaron’s got no need to examine it.

They’re joined by the rest of the Dingles shortly anyway, Belle choosing to come sit with them whilst the others drift back and forth to say hello or wish them a happy New Year prematurely. Paddy comes in from the back in an already tipsy whirlwind, making his way over to wrap Aaron in a tight hug – that Aaron tries to fight off, but he’s trapped against the bar so he’s stuck trying not to die of embarrassment as Matt laughs – and greets Matt with more gushing enthusiasm and weird kind of shoulder massage that he handles cordially, only wincing once and shooting Aaron a wide eyed look very discreetly.

Belle, sitting poised on her stolen bar stool and hiding a smirk behind her orange juice, gets away with a lightning quick, one armed hug.

Faith is more sober and more weird with Matt, but Aaron guesses he’s used to being flirted with. She at least doesn’t stay long, something new and shiny catching her eye like a magpie’s.

The night goes on with easy talk and easier laughter as the drinks keep pouring. Aaron’s feeling warm and loose, but half the pub is already well on their way to drunk, Sam included when he comes to slump beside them, some fallen decoration wrapped around his shoulders. He’s in good spirits, as far as any of them can tell through his slurring, bursting into laughter as he recounts an argument Doug and Eric had had that day in what Aaron had thought was an anecdote about poaching until over half way through.

Sam barely reacts when Lydia places her hands on his covered shoulders, partially leaning against his back; the dopier look in his eyes the only indication he knows she’s there for a while.

“C’mon, Sam,” the lilt in her voice says she’s had a few herself. “I want another dance out of you, Mr Dingle.”

Sam burps as he straightens up a bit, making Belle grimace. “Dunno. Room’s spinning enough. Don’t think we gotta dance.”

“Yeah,” Charity says from the other side of the bar as she pulls another pint. “Might not want to push your luck with that, Lyds,” she nods, though she’s still happily serving him alcohol and not offering him free water to sober up.

Lydia looks crestfallen, peering from Charity to Sam and letting her hands drop away.

“I’ll dance with you,” Matt speaks up, and everyone looks to him in surprise as he puts his drink down, none more so than Lydia.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Aaron catches a glimpse of his smile as he stands from his bar stool. “If you’d like to.”

Lydia beams as he offers her his hand, tittering in her distinct way as she takes it and gently pulls him away from the bar and nearer the few other dancers. He twirls her delicately – mindful of her own spinning head – and deftly, in a showy move that Lydia mistakes for skill and tries to engage him in actual dancing, with proper steps, which almost trips them both. The music’s too loud and they’re too far away to hear, but Aaron and his family watch as Matt laughs, lightly placing his hands on her waist as he presumably explains he’s a layman.

Lydia’s laughing too, but once they start dancing to the rhythm rather than a routine, it goes smoothly, Sam cheering them on as they ham it up to some dated pop that Aaron recognises, and will be recognising for the next fifty years, but will never be able to put a name to.

“You’re boy can dance,” Charity leans over the bar to tell him appreciatively.

It’s not exactly a surprise to Aaron; Matt had mentioned it before and he’s seen the pictures in his apartment taken in various clubs, but he didn’t expect to see him dancing himself.

Of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and once Chas and Faith clock Matt twirling Lydia round, they both demand a dance from him. He doesn’t quite escape the clutches of Aaron’s gran, but when the song is over and he walks to where Chas and Paddy stand, it’s Paddy he asks to dance instead.

With his usual social grace, Paddy flusters, turning from Chas to Matt and back again with expressive but unintelligible hands, his high-pitched giggle loud enough to be heard across the room. It takes a none-too-gentle shove from Chas, but he accepts, heading out to the makeshift dance floor. Matt looks like he regrets asking almost immediately, but he carries on, even if he has to lean in his knees part way through to laugh at what Paddy’s doing.

It’s just enough of a car crash to keep Aaron watching, but not quite enough to make his insides twist with embarrassment. Not yet anyway, as now Paddy’s started dancing, it seems he doesn’t want to stop; Matt escapes after one song though, and walks back over, leaving the monster he created front and centre.

When he comes to a stop in front of Aaron, he holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers as Aaron raises an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t dance,” Aaron states simply and firmly, taking a drink from his glass. It’s not strictly true; he danced when he got blind drunk with Jackson and Ed and there was no fear of anyone remembering much of it (Jackson had, because of course he had; he never enjoyed anything quite as much as he enjoyed winding Aaron up), and he used to dance to the radio at home if he was alone and knew for certain there wasn’t another living soul within a hundred yards of the place.

“That so...” Matt says like he can read Aaron’s mind, but he’s not giving him an inch.

“Never in my life.”

The corner of Matt’s lip turns up and something in his eyes glitter as Aaron meets him head on, not breaking away even as he takes another drink, hiding his own smirk. Matt slides forward, resting his forearm on the bar and using that hand to point at Aaron’s chest as he leans into his space. “I’m gonna get you to dance,” he promises, voice deep and teasing, and Aaron likes that look on his face. He likes it a lot. “And it’s gonna be to something proper cheesy, like Ricky Martin, and you’re going to love it.”

“You won’t,” Aaron says, just as low.

“I will,” he smiles, sweet and sure, and Aaron doesn’t have anything to say against that, so he orders another pint instead, asking Matt if he wants one too.

The last hours of the year pass by in overused pop music, drunken laughter, and shouted conversations, Matt and Aaron’s knees brushing together as they had to speak into each other’s ear on a few occasions. Aaron’s family and friends come and go for the odd conversation, and Matt gets up to dance a few more times, catching Aaron’s eye every time he does.

Aaron doesn’t dance, but he doesn’t hate the abstract idea of it, and that’s... something. With all Matt’s talk, he’d expected him to pester, to ask him every time he got up or to bribe him into it, but he doesn’t offer again, the only recognition of that conversation being in the knowing look he gives Aaron over the shoulder of whoever he dances with, all happy and confident and nothing like someone who’s lost an argument.

Aaron won the battle, but Matt looks as though he’s aiming for a war, like he hadn’t meant tonight.

Aaron doesn’t know what that means, but he doesn’t dislike the way it curls warmly around him.

They spend most of the night sat together at the bar though, and that’s where they are still when the countdown sneaks up on them. Chas naturally leads it, her voice rising above the crowd with that Dingle-woman ease, and Aaron immediately looks to Liv; the little gaggle of teenagers having arrived some time ago like Aaron knew they would.

She’s sandwiched between Gabby and Jacob, the whole group huddled as close together and as far away from the shameful adults as possible, and she meets his eye too, smiling with her rosy cheeks that Aaron secretly hopes she’ll never grow out of.

He won’t go over there and embarrass her, so nods and tips his glass to her instead. She does the same, smiling wider, and affection swims in his chest, knowing that he probably wouldn’t have even done that at her age.

“Five!” The pub shouts, and Aaron turns back to Matt to find him already looking at him, eyes soft and contented as he bite his lips slightly.

His arm slides behind Aaron on the bar as he leans forward, and Aaron doesn’t hesitate to meet him halfway so he can hear him over the crowd, like he has done half the night. Even speaking into his ear, Matt’s voice is quiet as he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Three!”

Aaron pulls back to look at him, meeting his green eyes first before his gaze drops down to Matt’s full and reddened lips. He’s suddenly aware of every cell in his body, but it’s a familiar tension, one Aaron likes, and he can _feel_ the look he gives Matt when he meets his eyes again, lips twitching into a smile.

“One!”

He brushes the tip of his nose very lightly along Matt’s as he leans in, and with a breath, their lips slide together.

“Happy New Year!”

Aaron’s only vaguely aware they may have jumped the gun, but it means nothing when his hand comes up to palm to the smooth skin of Matt jaw and neck, holding him close, Matt’s hand coming to rest firmly on his waist.

Their lips move slowly over each other, feelingly, and Matt parts his further to lick lightly into Aaron’s mouth. It’s nothing, really, a brief touch in a fluid movement, but it sends a smooth heat down Aaron’s spine, and makes him press a little firmer, wanting the kiss to last.

It’s somewhat ruined as Matt smiles, but Aaron can’t be mad when can feel it against his lips, the twitch as he tries not to.

So instead he gives Matt a brief, tight-lipped kiss, unable to fight his own smile as he pulls back, his fingers slow to leave Matt’s skin.

~~~

Matt reins kisses down on him, on his jaw, his neck, his chest and hips, and Aaron forgets. He forgets, and he remembers what he used to be like; uncaring if not always unselfconscious, pulling his top off for random blokes he’d pulled and changing in front of his family.

Matt is indiscriminate and nothing but hunger, latching his mouth on to whatever skin he can reach, and kissing, kissing, kissing.

~~~

Aaron’s slow to wake.

The bare minimum of consciousness rises first, then his body moves languidly, warm sheets sliding against his skin and he sighs contentedly at the trapped heat surrounding him. As he nuzzles into his pillow, he starts to register smell; himself, mostly, comforting and familiar and embedded in his linen since they’re not exactly fresh on. There’s a trace of stale musk and sweat that is never particularly pleasant, but soothes him all the same, even if it’s been a while since he last experienced it. And there’s something else too, new but known, and Aaron shifts to inhale it deeper, his body waking just that little bit more.

His eyes peel open next, blinking once, twice, sore and itchy and not actually all that ready to be open. His head chooses that moment to ache, not spitefully or distractingly, but dully as his eyes trace over Matt’s nose first, long and straight and pushed into his pillow, then over his full, parted lips, his cheek, his closed eye with its dark lashes looking surprisingly long to Aaron this early in the morning, and finally his hair, messy and absurd, and if Aaron had the brain power to deduce them, he’d see the tracks of his own fingers still shaping the thick strands.

But he doesn’t.

His mind is the slowest to wake.

He watches Matt sleep and breathe for a while, his own breathing slow and deep, stuck in that half-way world of wakefulness. It’s a pretty face, attractive; if Aaron wasn’t so tired he’d be tempted raise his hand and run his fingers lightly over his cheek, lean in and slot his mouth over those plump lips, kiss them slowly and gently until they kissed back.

From one moment to the next, Aaron knows it’s Matt, but how or why or when that moment occurs is irrelevant. His eyes track over his strong jaw, his neck, the round bulk of his bare shoulder. True consciousness starts to seep in then, his eyes drawn the sharp cut of his collarbone that he can barely see but entices and calls for his attention like a beacon of light all the same. Then he looks at Matt’s arm, half of which he can see and half of which he can feel as a heavy weight over his waist, holding him loosely, and he realises what it all means. He remembers.

It’s like a defibrillator to the heart.

His whole body tenses but thankfully he has enough sense – or maybe his body does – not to move, lest he wake Matt up. His breath comes out quicker, heart thudding just a little, as he continues to stare at Matt’s face, still peaceful and sleeping and making Aaron want to kiss him.

He could.

He could lean forward and just do it. The dull ache in his head might protest at first, but he’d move slow, kiss slow, gently lure Matt out of sleep and back into where they left off, maybe.

But Matt doesn’t do morning afters, Aaron remembers; he slips out with easy partings and practiced words, rinses and repeats around his work because that’s what makes him happy.

Aaron’s hardly unfamiliar with it, though words have never been his strong suit and come up even shorter with one night stands, but...

But.

He likes Matt. It should feel like a revelation but it doesn’t, and Aaron hasn’t got a clue when that happened. He likes him and he doesn’t want him to just wake up and leave, doesn’t want to hear the excuses, maybe even the same words he told Aaron to repeat when they first met.

Aaron closes his eyes and grits his jaw, exhaling sharply thought his nose and resisting the urge scrub his hand over his face. It’s so very typical. Admittedly, Aaron’s used to life using him as the butt of harsher, more painful jokes, but this is still so distinctly him; only Aaron would have a fake boyfriend, and only he would end up falling for-- wanting to actually date the guy.

The guy who doesn’t want a relationship. Which is why they’re doing this stupid plan in the first place.

This stupid, _stupid_ plan.

Aaron knew it was a bad idea. He knew, so of course he did it, and now it’s bitten back in a way he hadn’t even expected. Because why throw a spanner in the works when you can toss the whole damn toolbox.

He sighs and opens his eyes to watch Matt carefully as he edges from underneath his arm and ever so slowly from the bed. Matt doesn’t stir; face lax and arm happy to lay exactly where Aaron puts it. He treads carefully over the mess of his bedroom floor, pulling on some sweatpants he’d left to the side, and quietly opens the door, pulling it to just as silently, and heads for the shared bathroom, unwilling to wake Matt up with his own shower.

He’s tempted to skip it; he tends to – inexplicably – lose time in the shower, never managing to get out before at least twenty-five minutes have passed, and he’s not sure if he wants to come out finding Matt already gone. But it’ll be good to wash it all away, and to chase off with soap and his own hands the tingling in his skin and scalp where the memory of Matt’s touch lingers.

He doesn’t know how long he spends in there, but he feels better for it and when he makes his way downstairs, he sees Matt’s shoes still in the foyer, his jacket sprawled on the sofa where Aaron had thrown it last night, his own coat in a similar state nearby.

He heads to the dryer to pull out a jumper, thankful that he hadn’t been bothered to put it away, and leans against the counter, trying to work out how best to play this. In the end, the way he sees it, the only option is to go about his day like normal, like nothing happened, and wait for Matt to follow suit. He doesn’t want to wake Matt up and make him feel like he’s being kicked out, or make him feel like he has to stay or lie about needing to leave.

So he hangs his own jacket up and folds Matt’s neatly on the arm of the couch, before making himself a coffee and think about what to have for breakfast.

What he really wants is a full fry up; all the grease known to man to placate his mild hangover and satiate his desire for comfort food. But if ever there was a breakfast that could be construed as hopeful or a desperate plea for the other person to stay, it was that.

So he settles for fried eggs and a bit of bacon, popping on some toast as he puts a single plate on the counter; if Matt wants to stay for breakfast, that’s fine, but Aaron’s not going to look like he’s expecting him to.

The bacon’s only just browning when he hears someone start down the stairs, and Aaron knows that it’s Matt, can _feel_ it, is almost sure hair rises along his skin in awareness. He doesn’t turn to him or say anything; he gets on with his day.

“Hey,” Matt says softly, easily, as he continues down the steps. “Sorry I didn’t hear you get up.”

“It’s fine.” He flips over his bacon, not turning around.

“Um,” he stays stood by the bottom of the stairs. “Have you been up long, or...?”

Aaron shrugs. “Not really.”

There’s a pause before Matt speaks again, quietly, “Right.” He doesn’t move as far as Aaron hears, and he’s so focussed on him he can feel an uncomfortable pressure in his ears. “You, er,” he starts after a moment, possibly even quieter. “You okay?”

Aaron’s brow twitches in confusion and he feels the need to turn around, so he does. Matt’s standing exactly where he knew he was, his hair only slightly better than it had been in bed, and last night’s clothes thrown on and done up just this side of propriety, his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans.

Aaron struggles to swallow in his already dried out throat.

It doesn’t help that Matt’s eyes track over his body subconsciously; there’s no heat or intent behind it, and he certainly doesn’t look ready for round two standing half a room away and his shoulders hunched a little, but it sends a thrill through Aaron anyway, maybe because Matt can’t help himself or maybe because it reminds Aaron of how he’d looked at him last night.

He finds his voice though, when he watches Matt’s gaze drift to the side and to the single plate by Aaron’s elbow. “Yeah?” He’s not sure why Matt’s asking; they’d had a fair few last night, but they hadn’t exactly been drunk – or at least it hadn’t seemed like it. “You?”

Matt blinks at him, seems to shake something off. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He smiles, but it’s a pale imitation of how he’d looked yesterday.

“If you need painkillers or something...” Aaron frowns.

“No, no,” Matt waves him off. “I’m fine, really. Just,” his eyes dart away, and he takes a breath. When he looks back at Aaron, his smile is more of a wince. “Think I’m still half asleep, to be honest.”

Aaron exhales sharply in dry amusement. “You look it,” he nods to Matt and his hair and clothes in general disarray.

He shrugs, conceding Aaron’s point, but whatever good humour that had wrapped around him quickly seeps away when he spots his coat folded on the sofa. He’s going to leave, Aaron knows. He crosses his arms, and leans back against the counter slightly.

He expects Matt to announce it straight away, but instead he looks back at Aaron, to the counter at his side, and to Aaron again, his lips pulling into a cautious smile.

“So,” he starts slow, shifting his weight on his feet. “I’ll head out, then?”

Aaron nods. “Sure.”

“Right,” he clears his throat as he grabs for his jacket, only hesitating for a moment when he sees Aaron’s not moving, before heading to the door and slipping his shoes on. He pauses before opening the door, leaning round the wall slightly so they can see each other properly. Aaron’s hands squeeze his ribs, hidden. “Well, um,” his hand come up to rub the back of his neck. “Enjoy your day.”

New Year’s. Right.

“You, too.” Aaron offers, and Matt nods, disappearing from view and from the house as the door clicks shut quietly behind him.

Aaron sighs, tension draining from his body, and he scrubs his hands over his face.

The pan behind him pops viscously, and he spins around, taking it off the heat immediately. He stares at it for a while without seeing it, but eventually his stomach growls at the smell and the food comes back into focus. He looks at it a little longer, before walking to the fridge to grab some sausages.

Full fry up, it is.

~~~~~

Aaron goes back to work at the scrapyard the next day, phone calls and collections already coming in, has his tea at the pub, skirts around Liv as she does her coursework last minute, enjoys his birthday with his family even if it is a little on the childish side, gives Ellis a bonus for holding the fort on his own, the days pass, and he doesn’t see or hear from Matt.

~~~~~

He doesn’t tell his family they’ve broken up.

~~~~~

Aaron’s still smarting from an argument with Cain, viciously tightening a nut under the hood of a Citroen that he’d been roped into finish, when another car slowly pulls into the drive behind him.

He glances over his shoulder to see if it’s Dan returning, but finds an unrecognisable, and therefore a customer’s, car and faces forward again to steel himself to speak to the general public and not scare good money away before it gets a chance to book the car in.

He’s wiping his hands on rag when he hears the car door open and he turns around. Whatever half-hearted game face he put on disappears in an instant, along with the angry flush he still had to his cheeks, and his stomach; all of it dropping down, through the concrete floor.

Chloe steps elegantly out of her car, heels first, and shooting Aaron a smile that’s somehow both sheepish and proud of herself as she strides over to him without hesitation.

She looks different, hair neatly pinned and bright red lipstick on to match the smart dress that’s quickly hidden as she tightens her coat around her and ties its belt at the waist.

She must have come from work, he thinks, but that is the only thought he has. The sinking, panicky feeling occupies him too much to have any other coherent thoughts.

“I’m glad I caught you,” she says brightly as she approaches, and Aaron remains stock still. “I know you said you worked at a scrapyard, but I was passing by and thought I’d take my chances.”

She’s grinning at him and seems to be waiting for some kind of reply, but all he can offer is, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she responds easily, if a bit breathily, the word visible in the cold air. “So my car has started making a weird sound,” she immediately starts explaining, her voice taking a slight theatrical, storyteller tone. “And as I was passing through, I thought, where do I know a friendly garage, with a reputation for helping the needy, and where my brother’s boyfriend’s family works where I might be able to wring a bit of favouritism. Maybe even a discount.”

She winks at him, but all Aaron really picks up on is that she still thinks he’s dating Matt.

His complete lack of response only deters her slightly.

“I guess I should’ve called in advance,” she shrugs, unapologetic. “But I didn’t have your number, and if you weren’t working here, I thought I might have better luck in person.” He nods distractedly, still reeling and not actually understanding. She doesn’t seem to notice, asking cheekily, “Think you can squeeze me in?”

He finally shakes himself out of it, the direct question kicking him into gear. “Sure,” he says a little croakily, turning to head back into the garage to put his rag down and give himself a moment; the click of heals behind him tells him he won’t get that. “Why didn’t you ask Matt?” He finds himself saying, turning to find her close behind and looking a little surprised. “For my number?” he clarifies.

Not that that would have been in any way, shape or form, a good idea.

“He didn’t tell you?” Aaron frowns at her astonished tone, shaking his head. She rolls her eyes, and smiles sarcastically. “I guess he wouldn’t. It’s not a good look on a thirty year old.”

Aaron frowns deeper as he leans against the car he’d been fixing, which Chloe seems to take as an invite, coming beside him to lean against it too, unmindful of her white coat.

“We had the bright idea of pulling out the Monopoly board to play with the boys, and now we’re not talking.”

Aaron huffs, trying to bite down on a smile. “I thought Scrabble was the banned game.”

“Oh, Scrabble is the game our _grandparents_ banned,” she says, a fond light in her eyes. “Monopoly’s the game we actively chose to stop playing. Now I remember why.”

He can’t help laughing. “Why’d you bother with it anyway?”

“The boys are always on their phones or their laptops,” she whines in way that tells Aaron it’s a complaint she’s repeated many times. “I wanted to show them they don’t have to be looking at a screen to have fun.”

Aaron scoffs, “Bet you sound just like your mum.”

She looks down, smiling tight and wry, and Aaron mentally recoils from his own stupid foot landing in his stupid mouth.

“Gran was pretty lenient with that kind of thing, actually. Wanted us to be happy.” She lifts her head, painted lips pulled to the side as she lightly elbows Aaron’s side. “And look how we turned out,” she sweeps her hand down her body, “Scoring petty points off my ex and my little brother, and Matt, well,” she shrugs her shoulders, nodding her head towards him. “You’re probably the only bloke he’s slept with more than once in eight years.”

It takes a lot of willpower to keep his sarcastic, bitter snort in.

Still, what she says snags in a different way, and they might not be fake-dating anymore, but the whole point in this stupid, _stupid_ plan was to help each other out. Maybe Aaron can still do that. He wants to.

“Y’know,” he starts quietly, shifting a little. “That’s not a bad thing. Being single, even for that long.” She raises a sceptical eyebrow, clearly ready to say something but he carries on before she can. “I think it used to upset him a bit, when your lot got on him about finding a boyfriend.” He meets her eyes and sees her staring back a little wide eyed, whatever scathing comment she had on her tongue completely replaced by surprise, and maybe a little concern. “He was happy.”

“But he’s happier now,” she frowns, out of dogged righteous more than anything.

“Yeah,” he clears throat, resettling himself against the car unnecessarily. “But it doesn’t mean he wasn’t happy or fine the way he was before.”

She frowns a bit deeper, contemplating, and crosses her arms under her chest as she stares into nothing. When she glances back up at him, it’s with a softer look. “He really told you it upset him?”

“Not in so many words,” Aaron shrugs, hoping if he plays it a bit vaguer it won’t come to bite them on the arse when they finally get around to announcing their breakup. She still seems a bit wary, so he offers, “I went through something similar, with my family, when I split from my ex,” he waves it off like it happened years ago, trying not to leave her a trail of breadcrumbs to the truth. “They thought I needed to be with someone to be over him, to be happy, when being alone at that time was the happiest I’d been in years.”

She nods with an understanding that’s almost palpable, and for the first time Aaron’s curious about her, wants to ask her what happened, how long it’s been since she separated from her husband.

He doesn’t, of course.

She looks back at him with a sigh and self-deprecating smile. “I’m getting old, aren’t I? Complaining about technology and clutching my pearls at my brother not settling down by the time he’s thirty.” She sighs deeper, almost vocally as she looks around herself. “I’m like a flipping octogenarian who’s got nothing better to do than watch Countdown and wave her stick at the youths.”

Aaron smiles politely. “You want what’s best for them.”

“I need a life,” she corrects, but she’s smiling when she turns back to him. “You’ve got a younger sister, right?” When he nods, she keeps grinning, gesturing down herself again. “Take heed. You don’t think it’ll happen to you, but it will.”

He chuckles, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

She hums in acknowledgment and looks out at her car. She sighs and tilts her head towards it. “Think you could have a look?”

“Sure,” he nods. “Don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“I was going to stop for lunch anyway,” she says with a dry smile, pushing herself off from the car. “There’s a nice looking pub just down the road – is that the one your mum owns?”

Aaron’s body goes rigid, panic mode reinstated. He can’t think of a single reason why she can’t go there for lunch and can’t imagine a worse situation than her and Chas meeting. It must show on his face, or Chloe notices how tense his body is, because she raises an eyebrow at him and her mouth twists in contained amusement.

“Too soon for the in-laws to meet?” she asks with some teasing but not without understanding.

He swallows. “There’s a café opposite that’s pretty good.”

She laughs under her breath, “Café it is.”

“I’ll come let you know when I’m done,” he says as he stands up straight, ignoring the way he’s tickled her.

It’s a simple job in the end, the clutch release fork just needing some tightening. It takes him all of ten minutes, so he looks it over whilst he’s there to double check there’s nothing more serious causing the problem or waiting to catch her by surprise.

When he finds Chloe in the cafe, she’s sitting on one of the sofas, a fresh sandwich in front of her as she scrolls through her phone. He takes a moment to look around, thankfully not spotting any of his family, and perches on the arm of the seat opposite her. “Hey.”

She looks up in surprise, even more shocked to see Aaron there. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah, it was just a minor issue with your clutch. All fixed up now.”

“Wow,” she blinks at him before smiling. “That’s impressive work. Make sure you add a tip to the bill for the quick service.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves her off, but she frowns, putting her phone to the side.

“I can’t do that, Aaron,” she says earnestly. “I was only joking before.”

“It took ten minutes,” he insists. “There’s nothing to charge.” She looks as if to argue, so he adds, “Seriously,” in a tone that he hopes will put an end to it.

It seems to, as she sighs, shoulders slumping. She offers him a grateful smile. “Well, let me get you a coffee or something.”

“I’m fine,” he replies automatically, noticing the way Brenda’s looking at them with interest. He stands up before Chloe can protest. “Just come pick it up when you’re ready. Take your time,” he nods to her lunch, and head’s back out the door.

He’s elbow deep in the Citroen again when she returns, the click of heels behind him making him turn to her. Like before, she walks towards him with a happy determination, and before he can say anything, she’s pushing a polystyrene box into his hands.

“Matt mentioned you don’t have much of a sweet tooth,” she starts with a no-nonsense tone. “But who doesn’t like cake every now and then?”

He smiles at her, and doesn’t bother fighting a lost battle. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“Neither did you,” she quips back, but looking pleased. “Y’know, if you keep doing freebies, you’ll put the place out of business.”

He snorts. “It’ll serve my uncle right for not getting a replacement sooner.”

She laughs lightly as she steps forward, and it’s all he can do to hold his hands to side, saving the cake and trying not to get oil on her as she hugs him briefly and kisses his cheek with the same ease he’d seen at her grandparents.

“Thank you, Aaron,” she says sincerely, walking back to her car. He lets his arms fall, but is otherwise stuck in place. “See you again soon, yeah?”

“Sure,” he answers quietly as she climbs into her car. He watches as she goes, waving back awkwardly when she does so through the windshield, and gives himself a moment to breathe in the ensuing quiet.

He plans the share the cake with Liv for desert at first, but ends up scoffing it down with a cup of tea in his afternoon break.

He spends the rest of the day thinking about texting Matt, as he does most nights.

And like every night, he doesn’t.

~~~~~

The unusual dryness at the start of the season is a distant memory by mid-January, laden clouds spilling over all hours of the day and yet the biting cold doesn’t seem to let up.

It makes for miserable work outside, and it’s a tossup whether it’s better to work at the scrapyard or go out for collections, but at least at the yard you’re only ever a few feet away from the cabin and the kettle, and Ellis isn’t yet hardened to village work, fresh out of uni and gym work, so Aaron takes the truck.

It’s been a steady downpour today, his wipers sloshing water back and forth so rhythmically and continuously he’s practically forgotten they’re on. It’s not too heavy, thankfully not a repeat of the storm earlier in the week, and allows the muted afternoon light to illuminate the blanket of cloud, but it doesn’t feel like much of an improvement when everything the eye can see is a dull grey.

It doesn’t help that Aaron swings into the industrial estate on the outskirts of Hotten on his way home; even in the height of summer, it’s a joyless collection of wide open concrete spaces, grey buildings looming over grey car parks with little grey walls dividing them. It seems less expansive today, cars and trucks parked along the coiling road and outside the buildings, but Aaron still doesn’t have a problem finding a parking space outside the DIY store.

When he cuts the engine, the rain pelts down on his windscreen and within moments he can barely see through it. He sighs and pulls the hood of his jacket up – there isn’t enough money in the world to make put his cold, sodden hat back on – grabbing his ripped and redundant work gloves to toss in the bin as he walks indoors.

For all the harshness of its design and the bright lighting, Aaron finds the smell of the store welcoming; that concoction of wood shavings, metal, and solvents a homely familiarity. He navigates the aisles easily, dodging the other customers, most of whom look overwhelmed, meandering or staring up at the shelves in confusion. There’s more people than he’s used here, probably due the imminent end of the January sales and maybe even to escape the rain, but he gets round them quickly enough, giving himself a minute to pick out the best gloves and heading to the tills.

It’s only when he’s scooched passed a particularly crowded area that he realises it’s the queue to pay. His eyes scan over the line to the front, seeing only one till open, and back to end, which almost curls up into one of the aisles. He stands there in something akin to shock; this is not how his trips to the DIY store go. He expects it of the supermarkets, of literally every conceivable shop during December, but not here. Not _his_ store.

He throws his head back with a petulant sigh and heads the end of the line already full of grumpy, impatient men; he’ll need the gloves for tomorrow, sooner if he can be bothered to unload when he gets back.

He parks himself at the end, watching the realisation dawn on other faces as they come to queue, some of them turning right back around. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out, wondering if he should text Ellis – or even Liv – to let them know he might be back late.

His chest tightens sharply when he sees Matt’s name.

_> Hey. Just saw you. I’m ahead in line if you wanna jump the queue._

It’s ridiculous, how his breath shortens, how he feels a trickle of excitement tingle down his arms. He looks up, but of course he can’t see anything beyond the couple of heads in front of him, packed like sardines as they are, as if standing closer will get them served quicker.

There’s already a couple of people behind him, but he steps out of the line, more interested in seeing Matt than getting to the front, and walks a little slowly down the side, searchingly.

He spots him not too far from the till, looking as damp as the rest of them, his shoulders tense and tapping his phone against his leg. He’s looking ahead so he doesn’t see Aaron until he steps beside him, startling him.

“Hey,” Aaron says quietly, offering a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as shy as it feels.

“Hi,” Matt, in contrast, practically beams, quickly shoving his phone in his back pocket. His eyes swiftly track down Aaron, taking him in, and Aaron does the same; he’s dressed in his casual uniform, probably straight from work, but before Aaron can ask, someone interrupts from behind them.

“Oi,” they both turn at the sharp voice, a burly guy scowling down at Aaron. “You can’t just cut the line.”

Matt shifts to face him a little better, frowning back. “He’s my boyfriend,” he says to the bloke like he’s the crazy one, taking the gloves out of Aaron’s hands and dropping them in his basket.

The guy huffs, but doesn’t complain any further, rolling his eyes like one more item is a heavy inconvenience for him. They turn away from him again, Matt offering a quick wink, and Aaron tries not to smile back.

The little interruption means they can’t really talk, at least, Aaron can’t say the things that come to mind. They guy behind them might not be causing a fuss, but Aaron can feel his impatience radiating off him in waves, amplified by all the people behind him, and doesn’t want to risk getting them caught out and working the guy up more.

Matt seems to be in a similar predicament, standing beside him quietly, but he doesn’t seem to mind, looking more relaxed than he had before.

“So,” Aaron finds a starting point, trying not to sound amused. “Are you speaking to Chloe yet?”

Matt’s head snaps to him, a hint of fear in his confused look. “How did you know about that?”

Aaron does smile then, sliding his hands into his pocket. “She came by the garage a few days ago,” he explains softly. “Clutch was playing up as she was passing through.”

“God,” he groans under his breath. “Sorry.”

Aaron shrugs. “Only took a couple of seconds to fix.”

Matt nods, not saying anything and frowning to himself. Aaron nudges him and raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Well? Are you talking again?”

Matt rolls his eyes. “Sort of. Not enough for her to tell me about pestering you, apparently. So glad she mentioned that to you, by the way.”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” he says wryly, earning a smile from Matt.

Part of him wants to ask why Chloe still thought they were dating, test the waters to see if Matt’s having the same trouble, same thoughts Aaron is, and he gets his chance when a sudden shrill noise blares behind them, making them both jolt, and they glance back to see the bloke answer his phone, but Matt speaks up before Aaron can.

“So,” he keeps his voice quiet, even thought the guy behind certainly doesn’t. He seems a little hesitant, as they shuffle forward in line. “Did you have a good birthday? I was going to text you, but...” He doesn’t finish, frowning at himself like he wish he hadn’t started, but Aaron feels the unspoken words like a cloud of pressure between them.

“Yeah, I did,” he replies honestly, and marvels at the pleased look of Matt’s face. He keeps his own question shelved, suddenly happier leaving it in the unknown, in the space where Aaron is still free to make his own assumptions, and asks another. “You working?” He nods to Matt’s outfit.

“Just finished. Needed to pick up a couple of things for home and the station,” he gestures with the basket in his far hand, and like the movement was a signal, the queue moves forward and they’re next in line. “Kitchen bulb went yesterday,” he explains unnecessarily.

_Do you need help?_ Aaron immediately wants to ask, but he manages to trap it before he embarrasses himself; Matt’s a grown man. Aaron would just be setting himself up for a bad joke if he asked that.

They’re called forward by the harried cashier before Aaron can think of something else to say. He goes to grab his gloves when Matt puts the basket down, but he gently bats his hand away with a dry look. Aaron doesn’t argue – they’ve traded so many favours by now, it seems pointless – and the cashier doesn’t notice anything, barely looking up at them as each item is scanned with a tired deftness.

Matt and Aaron do their best to bag everything up as quickly as they can, stepping far out of the way once Matt’s paid.

Aaron pulls out his gloves, shoving them in his pocket as he hands the bag he grabbed to Matt, belatedly realising he could have carried it longer as they head to the exit together, walking about as slowly as the unfamiliar shoppers.

By the time they reach the wide sliding doors, he still hasn’t worked out what to say; he tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that now that Matt had texted him again and they’d seen each other, Aaron can message him whenever he figures it out.

“Thanks,” he settles with for now, pointing his thumb back at where there is no doubt still a long and despairing line, using a light tone as he adds, “Lotta perks to this fake-dating thing, huh?”

Matt chuckles, “Who knew?”

Aaron smiles back, and that’s the time to leave, he reckons; it’s not a bad place to leave it, Matt looking at him like that, soft and pleased and still that kind of pretty that knocks Aaron slightly of kilter. It’s enough, for now, more than he thought he’d get even an hour ago, so he nods and turns to go, promising himself again that he’ll try over text, but Matt calls him back before he can take a step.

“Hey, er,” he transfers both bags to one hand so he can rake the other through his hair, moving to the side almost skittishly as people pass them to head back into the steady rain. “It’s not that I didn’t get the message before, but,” Aaron frowns, not understanding – he hasn’t messaged Matt since New Year’s Eve – but Matt derails him before he can ask. “But, do you maybe wanna grab an early tea? While we’re here?”

A tiny thrill shoots through Aaron at Matt asking to spend time with him, though he knows not to read into it even as Matt’s still speaking. It’s not nothing though, it’s not Matt leaving the morning after to never be seen again. Maybe he wants to talk about their inevitable fake-breakup, maybe he wants to be friends – and Aaron thinks he could do that; he likes the rhythm they have, how easy it is to just _be_ with Matt, and it’s not like he hasn’t done it before – or maybe, maybe he wants to hook up again; whatever it is, Aaron wants to say yes.

He glances out the door, at the unrelenting grey where his truck sits somewhere with a bed heavy with scrap. Unless Matt was thinking of a drive-thru McDonalds in the cab of the truck, Aaron won’t be able to just park it on a road, unattended, outside whichever cafe or restaurant Matt had in mind.

“I can’t,” he says, turning back to Matt, his insides feeling itchy at not being able to take the chance Matt had set up for him. “I’ve just done a pick-up and need to get it back to the yard.”

“Yeah,” Matt says hastily, almost speaking over Aaron, his hand physically waving the idea away as he shakes his head. “Course.”

There’s a crease in his brow that Aaron can’t work out, not whilst Matt’s looking down at his bags, reshuffling them to take one in each hand again.

Aaron bites his lip briefly, taking a breath.

“I’m free tomorrow,” he offers, trying to keep it casual as Matt’s eyes snap up to his. “If you wanna hang out. If you’re not working,” he hastens to add, twitching in a way that feels uncomfortably Paddy-like.

“No,” Matt says softly. “I’m free in the afternoon.” When all Aaron does is nod and shuffle his feet, Matt straightens his back and clears his throat. “So, five-ish? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nods again and forces himself to stop before he starts looking like a dumb car ornament. “Text me, if you’ve got a place in mind.”

“Yeah,” Matt smiles, and Aaron’s nerves slip away and speed up at the same time. “Yeah, I will.”

Aaron makes his escape there, quitting whilst he’s ahead, throwing a “See you, then,” over his shoulder as he turns and heads out the door.

He grumbles as he forgets to pull his jacket hood up, but when he’s back in the safety of the truck, he smiles to himself, feeling light.

~~~~~

The next twenty-four hours move slowly, leaving mounting restlessness in their wake.

For the first time in a long time, it’s not raining when Aaron leaves for work in the morning, the gray rolling clouds grumbling at their fullness. It holds off all day, the sun even breaking through once or twice to reflect blindingly of days’ worth of raindrops and puddles.

Ellis is in a chatty mood, buoyed by something he hasn’t divulged to Aaron but he’ll no doubt find out about sooner or later, especially if he keeps talking a mile a minute. Aaron doesn’t mind it, in truth; it’s been a long time since the yard has had that kind of presence, Adam’s departure leaving even more holes in Aaron’s life than he expected, and he’s not Adam, not even close, but he’s been a good addition to the cabin, a much needed levity to balance out the more fractured blend Aaron, Jimmy and Nicola make.

It’s particularly welcomed today, when Aaron flits between excited, nervous, and impatient, but still in a good mood. It’s a decent distraction as restlessness scratches at Aaron’s shoulders, but it doesn’t seem to make the time go any quicker. When four o’clock finally ticks over, Aaron’s had enough; they’re both meant to finish at five today, but he calls for Ellis to start packing up and let’s his weekend start early.

Ellis practically floats from the scrapyard, and Aaron shakes his head with amusement as he hears him continue to rabbit on excitedly as he leaves.

As he drives home to squeeze in a shower – he’s given himself time to, now – and a change of clothes, his phone buzzes, and Aaron catches Matt’s name before focusing on the road again. He’d texted the name of restaurant earlier, but that’s been the extent of their communication since yesterday.

It goes off a couple more times before Aaron pulls into his drive and gets to read them.

_> So, the place I was thinking of is closed tonight..._

_> Don’t suppose you fancy meeting in the park since it’s not raining for once?_

_> I’ve been stuck going over old reports with the newest control freak of Hotten’s Finest all day. Could do with some air._

Aaron’s lips twitch.

He looks out his darkened window, the sun just set. It’s still mid-January, but it’s been milder today and nothing wrapping up won’t fend off.

_< Park’s fine._

_< Thought your lot and coppers were besties_

Aaron climbs out of his car and heads inside with his phone in his hand; he doesn’t have to wait long for a reply.

_> Pretty sure there’s nowhere in the world where that’s true._

_> I can count on one hand the number of decent officers I’ve met. _

Aaron doesn’t reply, but he can’t help smirking to himself at that; it bodes well, if they end up spending more time together.

~~~

The park on the other side of Hotten isn’t the biggest, just a flat stretch of green with a small pond at the end that’s teeming with spoilt ducks.

It never used to be a safe place to go once night fell, but in recent years the council has put a lot of work into that, putting up street lights and somehow no longer needing to replace the benches every six months. They tried to make it into some kind of hotspot this year, putting up hot drink stands and stringing white lights in the trees half-heartedly, with all the care of a toddler.

Aaron had forgotten that until he turns up, mildly surprised to see a few people walking round with takeaway cups. The lights and overall effect are slapdash at best, but something about it must be working in their favour since it hasn’t been taken down yet.

Looking at one tree in particular, its wires dangling and twisted with a couple of its lights flickering, Aaron wonders if it won’t catch fire before they get round to doing it.

He waits by the first bench as planned, but only for a couple of minutes, Matt turning up with a wide smile and a plastic bag in his hand.

“Sorry about the restaurant,” he starts off with. “But I brought supplies with me.” He lifts the laden bag to chest level to show Aaron, pulling a polystyrene box out at his raised eyebrow. “Best kebabs in Hotten.” He explains with a grin, holding it out to Aaron.

He huffs a surprised laugh, stomach already eagerly churning at the word _kebab_ before he even pops the lid. “From the place outside your flat?” Matt nods as he takes his own out. “We could’ve just eaten at yours,” he says with a touch of humour, unable to resist picking out a strand of meat to try.

“Well, y’know,” Matt shrugs, oddly hesitant. Aaron can’t help noticing Matt doesn’t look at him as he slides the bag to hang from his elbow, freeing up his hands; he’s still smiling, but it doesn’t stop Aaron feeling like he messed up a bit, somehow. “I’m like a dog when I’m on duty; need exercising at least once a day.” He does look at Aaron then, gentle amusement slipping into something more sincere. “If you’ve changed your mind, though-”

“No,” Aaron cuts him off, shaking his head. “I’m good.”

Matt smiles and tilts his head, and they start walking down the path together. Aaron takes that as his cue to start eating too, and takes a large bite of the kebab, moaning when the flavour hits.

“Yeah?” Matt asks with a laugh, his grin all teeth.

“Mm-hm.”

“Told you,” he says proudly before tucking into his own food.

Walking and eating isn’t the easiest thing to do, not the smartest either, with something so rich and heavy with grease, but Aaron’s had a lot of practice, mostly when he’s drunk and struggling to find his way home on a night out, so it goes as smoothly as eating a kebab can.

They chat a bit between oversized mouthfuls, asking about each other’s days; Matt complaining about the hours he’d spent with the new officer and Aaron playing down the good mood he’d been in all day, not mentioning how the hours had dragged, and instead retells some of Ellis’ nonsense even though Matt can’t possibly care.

They do end up sitting to finish eating, settling on a bench by the pond, probably damp due to the days of rain but neither of them can tell through their jackets.

“Sounds like romance to me,” Matt offers lightly after Aaron finishes talking about Ellis. “That’s usually what gets people giddy like that, right?”

Aaron snorts, “If it is, I don’t wanna know about it,” making Matt laugh beside him.

Looking out onto the pond like this – quiet for once, without the abundance of kids and greedy ducks – Aaron can admit it actually looks quite nice, the shoddy lights prettier reflected in the dark water.

It feels easy between them, and Aaron can almost forget that they didn’t speak for two weeks, forget that it was maybe weird for Matt to ask to hang out.

“Chloe says _hi_ , by the way,” Matt says softly, breaking the companionable hush that had fallen between them.

“You’re talking again, then,” Aaron teases as he puts his rubbish in the bag along with Matt’s.

He sighs. “We weren’t _not_ talking, I just wasn’t responding to her winding me up.”

“Uh-huh,” Aaron smirks as he settles back against the bench, turning slightly towards Matt. “Is there _anything_ you can play nicely with others?”

“Well,” Matt looks to him with glint in his eye and a sly smile. Aaron rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, but can’t fight his own smile or the heat that swirls in his abdomen.

“So you haven’t told her we’ve broken up,” it’s more of statement than a question, but Aaron asks anyway, partly for a distraction and partly out of curiosity.

Matt shifts in his seat. “No. You?”

Aaron shakes his head. “Never seemed to be the right time.” It’s not untrue, there hadn’t been a good time for him to drop the break-up in conversation, but more accurately then that, there hadn’t seemed to be a _point_ to. Even with Matt completely absent, the lie was still working out well for Aaron.

There are more honest reasons as well, but Matt doesn’t need to hear those when Aaron’s spent a long time avoiding the very thought of them.

With their food finished, the park around them fairly quiet, and their conversation coming to a lull, Aaron wonders where they go from here; this seems like the perfect time to part, Aaron can’t help noticing how the feeling wraps around them in the stillness, but he’s not ready to leave things like this, even – hopefully – temporarily.

“So, um,” Matt jogs him from his thoughts. He’s rubbing a hand down his thigh when Aaron faces him, the other tapping the wood where his arm rests bent on the back of the bench. It takes him a moment to look back at Aaron, but when he does, his eyes flit over his face and a tension seems to seep from his shoulders. “I know you’re not looking for a boyfriend,” he says quietly but steadily. “And if you were, it’s not like I’d be your first pick,” a small, diffident smile quirks his lips, but it falls quickly as he takes a breath, meeting Aaron’s eyes with earnestness. “But it I don’t ask, I’m pretty sure I’ll always regret not trying.”

Aaron’s chest feels heavy, his breath a little tighter as anticipation crashes through him at Matt’s words. Assuming historically makes an ass out of Aaron and Aaron alone, but he’s sure of Matt’s sentiment here, he’s sure, but there’s something in what he said that’s throwing Aaron off, and he reaches for it, past the way Matt’s _looking_ at him, and manages to grasp it. “What,” he stumbles, frowning because he can’t make any sense out of it. “What do you mean, not my first choice?”

He breathes out a dry laugh, fingers picking at the seam of his jeans. “C’mon, Aaron. You’ve got your own house, you’re own company, you were _married_ , and I’m just- I’m basically still living like a student at flipping thirty-”

“Twenty-nine,” Aaron cuts him off quietly. “Actually.”

Matt looks thoroughly derailed, mouth hanging open and half-way through a word as he blinks at Aaron. It quickly melts into a smile, his entire face softening. “Don’t do that,” he admonishes with zero heat and miles of humoured affection. “Don’t be cute on top of everything else. It’s not playing fair.”

Aaron scoffs, turning away and scrunching his nose in distaste and disbelief. “M’not cute.” He says definitively.

“You are,” Matt’s voice is as soft as the look on his face, and Aaron’s powerless to look away. “You’re a lot of things,” he’s says it like it’s a compliment, in a way Aaron’s never heard before. “And maybe I’m not much, maybe I’ve got some catching up to do, but I like you, Aaron. I really, really like you. And I could try to be more, if you wanted to give it a shot, too.”

Aaron can barely comprehend what he’s hearing as every word sinks in; Matt thinking Aaron’s somehow out of his league is unfathomable enough, but that someone could look at Aaron and think he’s got his life together, is such an unthinkable possibility, so completely opposite to what Aaron’s known his entire life, that he can only sit there in stunned silence.

He tries to work it out by breaking what Matt said down, piece by piece, and slowly sees the truth in it. He has a home, a business, good relationships with his family, and he wants a future; all facts and things he once never had, miles of progress without the bias others paint on it or have taught him to paint himself with.

When he looks back at Matt, he thinks maybe, for the first time in longer than he can remember, he’s not just looking at someone he fancies, someone that gets his heart racing and his stomach tickled with heat, someone he wants to take a chance on; he’s looking at someone who’s _good_ for him, that he’s maybe good for too.

Still, old habits die hard.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” his voice doesn’t wobble, doesn’t fracture, but there’s a breathless gravel to it, gruffly vulnerable even to his own ears. Because it’s true, because Matt’s somehow found a pedestal for Aaron to stand on when there’s a lot to be unpacked, things Aaron’s never had to tell anyone without an unshakable pressure bearing down on the back of his neck and village gossip to spread it around for him.

Matt, however, looks as though that wasn’t what he expected Aaron to comment on, dark brows furrowing slightly. He moves along with Aaron’s current, though, with a shrug and a humoured smile. “Of course; we haven’t even been on a date yet.” Aaron huffs, but Matt adds in a more serious, gentle tone. “I’ve got my own stuff, too.” He looks as though he wants to say more, but Aaron stops him with a press of his knee to his.

“I don’t think you’re anyone’s second-best,” he admits quietly, and though the pleased look on Matt’s face tells him he got the point, Aaron still adds, “You’ve got a fair bit going for you.”

“Yeah?” He asks with smile that grows when Aaron nods. His body relaxes a bit, shifting a little to lean more towards Aaron. “I didn’t think you were interested, after New Year’s.”

Aaron frowns. “New Year’s?”

Matt shrugs, not quite looking at Aaron again. “It was pretty clear you didn’t want me sticking around. Y’know, in the morning.”

Aaron’s eyebrows shoot up, puzzled. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay. You,” he falters, the memory of that morning starting to look a little different, and the insinuations in the words he’s about to say giving him pause too, but he continues anyway. “You never stayed. That’s why this whole thing started.”

Matt stares at him with widened eyes as they both let a few things they missed slot into place. Aaron could kick himself for that morning, but it’s hard to conjure up regret when Matt bites his lip on a smile and shuffles closer to him.

“Plan sort of backfired, huh?”

“It was you’re idea,” Aaron grouses teasingly.

“It was.” There’s an echo there somewhere, either in the words or in the way Matt’s looking at him, and it brings a warmth to Aaron’s chest. “Can’t say I mind the way it’s turning out.”

The smirk on his lips is soft and inviting, and Aaron has to kiss him then, catching his top lip gently and kissing him slowly, coaxing Matt’s lips from their happy stretch into kissing him back properly. It’s unhurried but thorough, Matt cradling his jaw, his hand cold and probably greasy, but Aaron couldn’t care less, breathing out a sigh as Matt’s thumb brushes his stubble and kisses him deeper.

They ease back in waves, finding it difficult – maybe even reluctant – to stop now they’ve started, and stay close together when they finally part, savouring the damp warmth between them and resting their foreheads together.

“Promise me,” Matt says quietly, seriously, and he’s so close Aaron can only really see his mouth and the way it ticks up. “That we’ll never tell anyone that this is how we really started.”

Aaron snorts a laugh, which can’t be that attractive when they’re face-to-face like this, but Matt doesn’t seem to mind, smile still in place and his hand sliding down to cup Aaron’s neck, his fingers grazing the hair on his nape.

“Not in a million years,” Aaron agrees, pulling back but not out of reach, pressing his leg against Matt’s. “We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Good,” his hand has to drop away from Aaron’s neck now that he’s sitting straighter, but the other comes up from where it rests on the back of the bench to trail fingers over Aaron’s shoulders. Matt’s said he’s a touchy guy, and Aaron’s seen the way his hands seem to be in constant movement, but it still sends him a thrill, the way Matt doesn’t want to keep his hands off him. Maybe that’ll be the first thing they have to compromise on, but here in the darkened and fairly deserted park, Aaron likes the closeness, the affection. “So,” Matt continues. “About that first date.”

Aaron smirks, crossing his arms loosely over his chest and leaning back into Matt’s arm. “What do you have in mind?”

He shrugs, but a sly grin that Aaron's already familiar with curls on his lips. “Chloe’s having a bookcase delivered on Wednesday that she wanted me to help assemble; just got a funny feeling that would the perfect day for us to have our first date?”

Aaron bites his lip as he grins. “Dunno,” he hums. “Sounds better for a second date to me. Paddy’s planning a family lunch on Sunday in a secret attempt to get everyone to help fix the bathroom he keeps breaking, if you’re free?”

Matt laughs, “I am during the day. The place we were meant to go today does a cheap lunch on Sundays actually – looks pretty good.”

“Sunday it is then,” Aaron smiles, meeting Matt halfway when he leans in for another kiss.


End file.
